Fly in the Ointment
by blondeweasel
Summary: (noun): an inconvenience that detracts from the usefulness of something. Sherlock has always been aware of these human feelings and emotions and he's always tried to appear as if he was above such things, but he could never, as hard as he tried, get rid of them. She brought out the human in him and that put him at a dangerous disadvantage.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first story published on here. I like to think I'm not too rubbish at writing, but I guess this will be the true test. Any and all feedback is welcome, just try not to be too harsh, I really hate crying. Also, if I'm formatting wrong or anything, please let me know! I've never done this before. Oh and I'm not British, so please excuse any "American-ims" I might have overlooked. Thanks!**

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Fly in the Ointment

She knew it was risky, being so close by. She hadn't meant to end up working in London, but the job was amazing, and the pay was great too. Sustaining a life in London wasn't cheap. Plus, she's always liked the city, just enough people to slip by unnoticed. Being in the city didn't come without its dangers though. Although she had changed in the past 5 years, there's no doubt they would be able to recognize her if she wasn't careful. There's not many people who can fool the Holmes brothers, but she'd been known to do it before. It would take a lot of brains and cunning, but she did learn from the best. She'd managed for the past three months so far.

The double murder of the Patterson family was gruesome and thrilling. It was bloody and it was disturbing, but it was full of mystery and unconnected evidence just dying to be put together. That was not her job however. Her job was in questioning. She was to question any possible witnesses, relatives, or potential suspects about the case. Her boss had told her she was the best they'd ever had. That her ability to read people and tell if they were genuine or not, was borderline superhuman. She'd calmly and compassionately ask them questions, let them cry to her as she offered them tissues, and pat their arm gently when they got too upset, all the while condemning the guilty ones to jail with their fake tears. It's not that she didn't have any compassion. On the contrary, she'd been told numerous times that her compassion was bound to be her downfall someday. All the more reason to put those heartless bastards behind bars for the grief they caused everybody; real people whose lives had been shattered to pieces by crazed criminals seeking attention and fulfillment for their selfish desires. Her heart might be her downfall, but at least she'd be going down with a heart; better than the murderers could say.

The Patterson case found her questioning 9-year-old Sarah Patterson, the sole survivor of the brutal attack on her parents. A now orphaned child who had only survived by stuffing herself in a linen closet and witnessing the murder of her family. It didn't take a genius to see that the girl was traumatized and scarred for life most likely. But not many people would have noticed her fear of dogs, her preference for reading over computer games based on the ink stains on her hands, her talent with the piano, and her love of chocolate biscuits. Most wasn't relative to the case, but she can't pick and choose the details she sees.

Having successfully cross-examined the poor child, she left her with protective services and went to report to the boss.

"Alright, so, Sarah saw a lot, but she was too traumatized to speak a word. But she's a visual person so the details should be etched into her mind for some time. It's better to rely on the visuals, since her hearing would have been impaired by the barking of the neighbor's dog, awakening her fear of them and preoccupying her mind with it. I'd say give her a few days, then bring her back in and question her again," she said as she was closing her notebook. "Oh, and give her a book to look at when you talk to her. She's an avid reader and the visual stimulation from the book will bring her memories to the surface."

Once again her colleagues and her boss were giving her their bewildered and slightly awed looks. She knew what was coming next, but she wasn't in the mood to indulge them. She held up her hand to cut them off before they could start.

"Please don't ask how I got that. Just take the notes," she said, walking away to the squad car.

It was then that she saw him. Her breath caught in her throat causing her to cough violently, causing her to have to duck behind the car before he could look for the source of the noise. She peeked up through the car windows and saw him speaking to Lestrade and looking over the notes that she'd given him a minute ago. Then he walked inside. Crap! He'd probably recognize her handwriting. She had to act fast. She was just about to make a run for it when she crawled smack-dab into Lestrade's knees. She looked up into his confused expression and cringed.

"Andie, what are you doing down there?" he asked.

"Nothing sir, just think I dropped my glasses, that's all," she answered.

"You don't wear glasses…"

"Which would explain why I can't find them. Thank you sir," she smiled then turned to leave as quickly as possible.

He grabbed her arm before she could turn though and was guiding her over to the crime scene again.

"There's someone I want you to meet. He's brilliant, and I think you two would work well together," he said as they walked. "Ah, here he is now."

The man she saw earlier was just exiting the house, removing his gloves as she walked over to them. Pretty soon she was stopped in front of the man she'd been trying to avoid since she saw him walk up.

"Andrea Carson, meet Sherlock Holmes," Lestrade introduced, pushing her closer to the man. "He's the best detective we have, but don't go telling the others."

The tall dark haired man turned to greet her with a bored expression on his face. The expression didn't last long as she saw his mouth twitch into a frown and his eyes narrow a bit. It couldn't have been more than a few second, but she knew she'd been caught. She had to leave. Now!

She took advantage of his momentary confusion and muttered a panicked "pleasure," before high-tailing it away from the three men.

"Carson! Where are you going?" She heard Lestrade call after her.

"Sorry sir! Urgent business! I'll have the report by 8 tomorrow!" she yelled back.

Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Detective Lestrade stared after her looking puzzled.

"What did you say her name was?" Sherlock asked.

"Andrea Carson," Lestrade answered.

"No it's not," Sherlock replied.

"What? Her name is Andrea Carson and she's a brilliant young thing. She specializes in questioning. The things she can tell about people from just observing them when they talk to her. It's genius! Kind of reminds me of you, Sherlock. When you first started up," Lestrade said.

Sherlock continued to stare after Andrea looking pensive.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" John asked.

"Huh? Yes! Yes, I'm fine. Look, I have to be going. It's been a pleasure as always Lestrade," he says with a forced smile.

"Hey! What about the case?" Lestrade asked.

"Text me with any new information and I'll get back to you. I'm sure with _Ms. Carson's_ notes I can come to some conclusion quick enough," Sherlock said turning his back on Lestrade. "Come along John!"

* * *

John and Lestrade exchanged confused looks and shrugged before John left to follow Sherlock.

"Sherlock! What the hell was that all about?" John asked, exasperated. "You were so excited for this case, now you're pushing it aside like it doesn't matter? What's wrong with you?"

"Shhhh!" Sherlock hushed John, creeping around the back of the houses. John didn't even bother asking, knowing that with Sherlock, there was no point.

After creeping into the alleyway behind the house, Sherlock reached into the shadows and took hold of something.

A slightly panicked "Damn it!" was heard from the shadow as Sherlock pulled Andie out to face him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sherlock asked menacingly.

"Sherlock, what's going on?" John asked.

"I'm sorry sir, I'm not sure what you mean," Andrea said to Sherlock, backing away.

He pulled her arm more roughly and growled again. "Don't play dumb with me Adelaide! Answer the question!"

She pulled her arm from his grasp and scowled at him. "Typical Holmes greeting. Scowling and threatening. Nice to see you too."

All she got in response was a more intense glare. "I should think it's obvious what I'm doing here Sherlock. I'm working a case."

"Is anybody going to tell me what's going on?" John asked, taking in the scene.

Adelaide turned to look at John and smiled politely. "Oh it's nothing sir, I was just leaving anyways. Go on back to your guys' flat and don't worry about me," she said.

Sherlock grabbed her arm again and started dragging her towards the street opposite them. She struggled in his grasp and kicked him in the leg while trying to squirm away.

"Sherlock, get off of me! Where are we going?" she yelled.

"We're going to see Mycroft, now let's go!"

"No! No, I'm not going to Mycroft! Why do we have to involve him in this? He's going to go ballistic!"

"As compared to how angry he'd be if he found out we didn't come?"

"Come on Sherlock, please! Not Mycroft!" she said trying to shake him off of her.

"Stop squirming Addie! Or I will put you over my shoulder and carry you," Sherlock threatened.

Addie heeded his warning and became more compliant, allowing him to drag her to the main road.

"I still don't know what's going on!" John yelled, stepping in front of their path.

Sherlock and Addie exchanged looks and sighed. John thought it creepily identical to one another.

"John, meet Adelaide. My little sister," Sherlock said.

"Your….sister? You have a sister? Why haven't I ever met her before? You never mentioned a sister."

"Well, that's because she's been dead for the past five years."

John looked much like a gaping cod-fish and by the time the taxi pulled up and they all climbed inside he still had his mouth open slightly.

The Holmes family never ceased to surprise him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's a new chapter! Thanks for the review and favorites/followings! It's really encouraging to know there are people enjoying it! This is the chapter we start to see how the characters interact. If they are out of character, I'm sorry! I'd just like to think they'd act a bit different than normal in these types of circumstances. Hope you enjoy! :)**

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Chapter 2

To say the taxi ride to Mycroft's office was awkward would be an understatement. John was stuck in the middle of Sherlock and Adelaide, both staring out opposite directions of the cab with brooding faces. The tension was nearly suffocating so John decided to make conversation to ease it a bit. Never a good idea when the Holmeses were involved.

"So, Adelaide…" John began.

"I prefer Addie," she interrupted him, still staring out the window.

"Ok. So _Addie_, how long have you been in London?" he asked.

"Nearly 6 months. Working cases here and there to help pay the bills, doing some grunt work for Scotland Yard to scrape up a few extra pounds, and stop judging me Sherlock! I can hear you thinking!"

Sherlock gave a long suffering sigh and a roll of his eyes as a response. John looked awkwardly between the two of them.

"Alright, let's talk about something else then," John suggested. "I haven't properly introduced myself. My name is John Wat-"

"John Watson, early to mid-thirties, ex-army doctor, discharged from Afghanistan due to injury. Avid blogger and writer, and quite frankly desperate for human companionship based on the fact that you are flatmates with my brother," Addie said.

Sherlock shot her a scathing look and John unsuccessfully hid his smile.

John didn't even look surprised at her observations of him. "Guess I should have seen that coming," he commented. "How did you know we were flatmates though? Why not just friends?"

"Sherlock doesn't have friends. So, you're either romantically involved, which is possible, but unlikely since you don't seem the type, given the fact that fashion sense and hygiene are not high on your list of priorities. Or, by process of elimination, not a friend, not a lover, the next logical association is flatmate," Addie said, facing him.

"Wow, that's really quite good. Not sure whether to be offended or impressed," said John.

"Please John, don't go inflating her ego. We can't afford any more of that," Sherlock said.

"Right, because you've got enough for all of us," retorted Addie.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked sideways at her, a look John had come to know as trying to kill someone with his mind. Addie simply returned his look with a cheeky smirk before resuming staring out the cab window.

John really hoped they were nearly there.

Finally the cab pulled up to Mycroft's office and they exited. Sherlock kept a strong guiding arm on Addie's back, ready to catch her if she decided to run. Sherlock purposefully strode through security, not giving them a second glance when they asked for I.D. and badges. He silently stepped into the elevator and waited for John and Addie before pressing the button.

Pretty soon they were outside of Mycroft's office, currently being guarded by Anthea. The woman looked up from her phone briefly to see who it was before going back to texting. "Mr. Holmes is not inclined to see visitors today," she said.

"It's rather important ma'am. Maybe you could get him to give us a few moments of his time then-" John was cut off.

"Oh for god sakes," Sherlock said, pushing Anthea aside and bursting through the doors.

Mycroft was startled out of his work by the opening of the door, curious as to who had gotten by Anthea to gain access to his office. He rolled his eyes and went back to his work, not looking up as he addressed them.

"Sherlock, I'm rather busy today. I don't have time for your trivial matters when there are other matters of national importance that require my attention."

"Oh, I think you might find this a matter of extreme importance, _dear brother_," Sherlock said.

Mycroft sent him an annoyed glare but kept his eyes focused on him, telling him to continue. "I really don't see what could possibly be more important than…" he trailed off, his eyes growing larger and his mouth falling open.

Sherlock had moved aside, giving him a full view of the last person he ever expected to see walk through the doors of his office.

"Hi, Mykie…long time no see, eh?" Addie said hesitantly.

It was one of the rare times in Mycroft Holmes' life that he was well and truly at a loss for words.

* * *

It took a while for Mycroft to finally find his words.

"Wh…what…how…is this a joke?"

"Oh come on Mycroft, even I wouldn't be that cruel!" Sherlock said.

"But…" That was about as articulate as Mycroft was going to get for the time being, so Sherlock, with a dramatic sigh, decided to lay it all out for him.

"I was looking around the scene of the Patterson murder, great case by the way, thanks for the tip," Sherlock began.

Mycroft now looked even more confused, given that Sherlock had said "thanks," to him in a non-sarcastic and condescending way.

"Anyways, I was at the crime scene when Lestrade walked over, talking some nonsense about how I needed to meet someone and blah, blah, blah. I, as usual, tuned him out and nodded my head, not willing to listen to his inane babbling. When I look up next, I happen to see our dear little sister parading around as someone named…what was it John?"

John started slightly, under the impression that everyone had forgotten he was in the room. "Umm…" he opened his notepad. "Andrea Carson," he said.

"Oh yes, that's it. Andrea Carson. Professional interviewer, or whatever it's called. I can't be bothered to think of it now," Sherlock said, waving his hand away. "I realized it immediately of course, just played along to keep up appearances. Even more suspicious when _Ms. Carson_ decided to run away and hide in the shadows behind the building. But, never fear, I extricated her from them and brought her here, against her wishes of course."

"He hurt my arm! I'll most likely have bruising within the next 24 hours," Addie said sulkily.

"You kicked my leg! Rather hard, I might add," Sherlock sulked back at her.

"An eye for an eye," Addie smirked at him.

Mycroft, having enough of this craziness in his office, raised his hand to stop the conversation. "Alright, alright, _children_, let's get back to the main point," he said. He looked towards Addie, giving her his famous raised eyebrow. "Care to explain, Adelaide?"

"Naw, not really in the mood for that right now. Let's get back to it later, yeah?"

The looks of pure venom she got made her sigh and roll her eyes. "Look, I can't…"

"How did you do it?" Sherlock asked.

"And why?" Mycroft added.

"I'm really not up to discussing this right now. Seriously. I'm not ready. Can we please just put it off?" she said, practically begging. "I'm really tired, and I would just like to go back to my flat, have a cuppa, and watch some crap telly."

"Oh so you're tired? Why are you so tired?" Sherlock asked, giving her a calculating look.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because I need more sleep, Sherlock, why else do people get tired?" she snapped at him.

"You're a Holmes. You've been wired to function on very little sleep. It would take a lot for you to be so tired. But why are you then?"

"Sherlock…" she warned.

"Perhaps it could be that you do sleep, but not well, considering whatever happened to you in the past five years has undoubtedly taken a toll on you. Or maybe it's the fact that you haven't been able to pay your bills in more than a month, and, on the rare occasions that you do sleep, you've had to sleep in the cold, causing discomfort, and making it difficult to achieve a satisfying rest," Sherlock rattled off.

Addie groaned, "Oh great, here we go."

"The lack of heat could also contribute to the cold she seems to be developing too. Given the roughness of her voice and the small sniffles she's been making," Mycroft added.

"Right you are dear brother. Also taking into account that she is thin and pale. Surely a sign of little sleep, lack of decent meals, and an unpleasant living situation," Sherlock said.

"Oh come on! That's not fair! You barely eat anything and you never sleep. Why all the attack on me?" Addie protested.

"Because, dear sister. I have the means to acquire sufficient sleep and meals if and when I need them. Which is more than you can say isn't it?" Sherlock said.

"I can take care of myself!" Addie yelled.

"Yes, of course you can. Which is why you will be moving in with John and Sherlock," Mycroft said with finality.

John, having been silently watching the sibling interaction with fascination, slipped back into reality at the mention of his name. "Now wait a minute, we…"

But he was cut off my two very loud and indignant shouts of "NO!"

"It's already been arranged with Mrs. Hudson. She informed me that there is an open flat next to yours. 221C I believe. Said she's never been able to rent it out for some reason or another. So I made an offer and got it all set up," Mycroft said, sitting back in his chair with a self-satisfied smile.

"How the hell did you do that so fast?" Addie asked, staring at him in awe. "You know what, I don't even want to know."

"And what if we refuse?" Sherlock challenged.

"You won't," Mycroft replied.

"And why not?" Addie asked.

Mycroft fixed them both with an intense glare before repeating, "Because you won't."

Sherlock and Addie huffed and looked away from him. "Good! Then it's all settled!" He said.

"Hardly!" shouted Addie. "In case you two haven't noticed, I'm not a child anymore, and you can't just order me around and tell me what to do with my life! It's my bloody life!"

Angry shouts of "Language!" resounded from the two brothers, then an unsettling silence.

"John, if you could please leave us for a bit. Go to the sitting room. Anthea will bring you some tea. I need to have a _discussion_ with my siblings," Mycroft said, forcing a polite smile.

John couldn't have been more grateful to get out of such an awkward and tension filled situation and he high-tailed it to the sitting room. He accepted his tea from Anthea and silently began to wait out the _discussion_ between the three Holmeses. He just sincerely hoped that this wouldn't end in an all-out war…literally…given Mycroft's position of power.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews once again! I enjoy writing this fic and I'm not one of those people who won't post unless I get a certain number of reviews. I'm satisfied to know at least a few people like it. A writer's job is to entertain and put their talents out there. As a writer, I'm satisfied with as much or as little feedback that I get on my work. If at least one person likes it, I've done my job :)**

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Chapter 3

John was still sipping his now cold cup of tea. Thoroughly disgusted with it, but for lack of better things to do for the past half hour, he decided cold tea was better than being stuck in the storm that was occurring in Mycroft's office. He heard many shouts, threats, and even some banging around. Clearly their _discussion_ was not going well.

Suddenly he heard a furious "piss off!" and Mycroft's door opened and slammed shut, a furious Addie stormed out. He watched as she stomped to the loveseat opposite him and plopped herself down onto it forcefully. She was literally shaking and seething, her face turned away from his. John sat there awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do. Addie had stopped seething and was now shakily breathing, her sniffles and wiping of her eyes not lost on him.

"Are you ok?" he asked, thinking it would be rude not to express some concern.

"Fine!" she snapped.

"Ok then. Great." He replied.

There was silence between them for another minute or so before Addie broke it.

"They keep asking me to explain it all to them. To tell them how I did it and where I've been. But I just can't! They won't understand!" she said.

John sat there quietly not knowing what to say.

"It's just…all this has happened so fast. I'm not prepared for any of it. I need more time!" she said, her anger deflating, her posture taking on one of defeat and exhaustion.

"Do you know what it's like to carry something around with you for so long that it becomes this all-consuming part of your everyday life? Like your life, who you are, who you were, is defined by this one thing and you know your only chance of surviving it is to lock it away and try to deal with it yourself. Then someone comes along and asks you to just let it out; lay it all bare, as if it's not something that has been consuming your day-to-day thoughts and actions. As if it can be fixed by sharing your feelings over a nice cuppa and some chocolate biscuits. Do have any idea what that's like, Dr. Watson?" Addie asked.

There was a pregnant pause and a long exhale from John before he answered, his eyes transfixed on a spot on the carpet.

"Yes," he answered. "I do."

Addie's head snapped up to look him in the eye before allowing an empathetic and understanding smile to cross her lips. John's eyes looked up to catch hers and he returned the smile, feeling the locks on his heart loosen just a bit.

"So," John started. "They still _discussing_ in there?" he asked.

"Yes. Mycroft likes to give the appearance of a discussion, all the while forgetting that a discussion requires the input of the other party to be heard and considered," Addie said exasperatedly. "I'm sure the discussion is ranging from Sherlock trying in vain to negotiate with Mycroft, and them sharing observations and ideas about how to get me to reveal my "secrets" to them," she finished. "It's all rather tedious and predictable."

John absently sipped at his cold tea and nodded his head.

"That tea must be crap now. Cold and tasteless," Addie said.

"It is actually. Disgusting," he answered.

"And yet, you're still drinking it," she said.

"Yep," John answered.

"Because you've nothing better to do."

"Yep."

"Well, you might as well get comfortable and find something else to do. Knowing those two, we could be here a while," she said, grabbing a magazine from the table and reclining on the loveseat.

John grabbed the newspaper off the table and began flipping through it. He abandoned his cup of crap tea and was now idly perusing the headlines.

Addie broke the silence once again, lowering her magazine to peer over the top of it. "So how is it?" she asked. "Living with Sherlock?"

"It's…it's rather interesting," he replied.

"That's putting it nicely," Addie snorted. "Come on John, you can be real with me. I lived with him practically my whole life. I know what he's like."

"Ok then. Living with Sherlock is madness. It's infuriating and frustrating at times. He never cleans up, he's always making a mess, and those experiments! The things he stashes in the pantry, good lord!" John exclaimed.

Addie chuckled and shook her head. "Ahh, his experiments. Those are fun aren't they?"

"If that's what you want to call them," John answered.

"He used to let me help him when we were younger. Loved to teach me all about science and the amazing things you can find in the mundane. I stopped helping him though, after a few years." Addie said.

"Why? What happened?" John asked.

"He used my favorite Barbie doll as his test subject. I came home from school to a melted and singe- haired toy lying on my bed. I cried hysterically for hours and refused to be his assistant ever again."

John couldn't help but chuckle. Addie fixed him with a patented Holmes glare. "It's not funny!" John was still failing to hide his amusement.

"Well I guess it kind of is. Sounds a bit ridiculous too when you say it out loud."

"Sibling rivalry traced back to a melted Barbie doll? Sounds pretty ridiculous to me," John laughed.

"Well, to Sherlock's credit, he did buy me a new doll for Christmas that year, so I couldn't stay mad at him for long."

"He does that a lot doesn't he? Make you angry then go and redeem himself to the point where you are angry that you just can't be angry at him anymore," John said, smiling.

Addie laughed and looked at John again. She could tell by the wistful look in his eyes that Sherlock had definitely found a way to break into his guarded heart and gain a bit of his trust.

Addie shifted on the loveseat and yawned. The magazine came to rest on her chest and she continued to study John.

"So, John, do you have any siblings?" she asked.

"Yes actually. A sister. Harry…er, Harriet. She's older than me. Likes to go by Harry. She's a…umm…"

"A lesbian," Addie finished for him.

"Well, yes, to put it mildly. Harry and I were never really close. Not because of her…preferences. Just because of our personalities. We couldn't be more opposite really. I remember, one time when we were younger…"

Addie was listening to John's story with vague interest. Her desire for sleep winning out over talking with John. Her eyes were battling with her to stay closed and let her rest and she was fighting it with all she had. It was a losing battle though and her exhaustion won out, pulling her into a peaceful sleep.

"And then I said, 'Harry, if you ever mess with my stuff again, I'll tell mom all about your lunchtime escapades with Linda.' You should have seen her face! Never seen her so scared!" John finished, laughing, looking to Addie for her reaction.

He was met with a snoring and sleeping Addie, sprawled out on the sofa, hand dangling to the floor, magazine lying open on her chest. John smiled and shook his head as he picked up the newspaper and started reading.

A short time later Mycroft's door opened and both brothers came through the door.

"Addie! We've reached a decision and nothing you say will change it. We've decided…" Sherlock was cut off by a loud "Shhh!" from John.

He looked curiously at where John was pointing and saw Addie sleeping on the loveseat. Mycroft chuckled from behind him and shook his head.

"Still stubborn as always. Refuses to give in until she can't fight it anymore."

"I knew she was exhausted. I mean, you saw the state of her. She looked ready to drop any moment," Sherlock said.

All three men were silent, staring at Addie and not knowing where to go from here.

"She sure knows how to ruin a good conflict. Didn't even get to use my "big brother" voice," Sherlock said trying to sound mad but failing. The affectionate smile on his face betraying his annoyance.

"Well, it's been a long day for all of us. Best be getting home and resting ourselves," Mycroft said. He walked over, removed the magazine, and placed it on the table before carefully and gently lifting Addie into his arms. He walked out of the room while Sherlock and John followed.

Mycroft continued to gently carry Addie out to the car that was waiting outside. John crawled in, followed by Sherlock and Mycroft set Addie down next to him, careful not to jostle her too much. Sherlock grabbed her arm to steady her and allowed her head to come to a rest on his shoulder.

John thought it very odd to see the Holmes brothers being so gentle, caring, and…_human._ But as much as it confused him and surprised him, he found it strangely fitting. Just two men looking out for their younger sister, quite possibly the only one with the ability to crack their cold demeanors. He decided that if he had to have anyone looking out for him, he'd sure as hell want it to be the Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's Chapter 4! Thanks for the support and all my followers and favorite-ers. And thanks to my loyal reviewer Theta-McBride! Your reviews make my day and they are so encouraging! Even if I don't respond to each individually, know that I appreciate each one so much! Hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

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Chapter 4

Addie awoke groggily, groaning as she opened her eyes to the harsh light coming through the window. She took a moment to get her bearings before she lifted her head to look around. The grogginess had faded a bit and she took in her surroundings. She was on a sofa, a union jack pillow under her head and a hideous orange blanket draped over her. She looked up to see Sherlock reading the newspaper in the chair across from her.

Addie groaned and plopped back down on the pillow. "Oh great."

"Well good morning to you too. How'd you sleep?" Sherlock asked from behind the paper.

Addie shot him a half-hearted glare which he couldn't see from behind his paper but he chuckled cheekily anyways.

"So now that you're back in the land of the living, what do you say we go check out your room?"

She was still a bit hazy and hadn't moved from her spot on the couch. She had no intention of looking at her room, since she had no intention of staying there at all. She figured she had to move though if she was going to make a break for a taxi to take her back to her flat. She sat up slowly and extricated herself from the blanket.

"Why do I have this hideous orange blanket on?" she asked.

"Oh that. It's a shock blanket. Stole it from a crime scene a few months ago. It's really quite warm," he answered, putting the paper down.

She gave him a weird look and pushed the blanket away. "Ok then, this has been fun. But now that I'm feeling better, I really must be getting back to my flat," she said.

"It's empty," Sherlock replied.

Addie stopped mid-rise from the couch and went still. "What?" she asked.

"Your flat. It's empty. All your stuff is here. No need to go running back to get anything. Rather convenient don't you think?" Sherlock answered.

She sat back down on the couch and put her head in her hands. "There's no getting out of this is there?" she asked.

"Nope!" Sherlock said matter-of-factly.

"So I have the flat next door? There's no secret passageways or anything where you're going to show up in the middle of the night or anything?" Addie asked.

"Why would I go to your room in the middle of the night?" Sherlock asked seriously.

"Nevermind," she rolled her eyes. "Hey where's John?"

"He's at work. Had this ridiculous notion to go work at the hospital. Something about idle hands and earning money. Sounds dull."

"Right."

"Why do you care anyways? You hardly know John," asked Sherlock.

"Oh, we had a nice little chat last night while you and Mycroft were busy plotting…I mean _talking_ for hours," Addie answered.

"Hmmm…boring!"

"Whatever. I'm going to _my_ flat. See you…hopefully not soon," she said standing up.

Sherlock didn't even acknowledge her leaving the room as he sat at his computer looking for a case. He heard her leave and walk down the hall. He heard her open the door next to their flat and walk inside. He predicted how long it would take for her to realize it. 3, 2, 1…

"SHERLOCK!"

He smirked as he heard her stomping her way back into his flat. He looked up as she entered and gave her an uninterested look. "Yes?" he drawled.

"What the HELL is that?" she asked, gesturing wildly at the room down the hall.

"That's your flat. You don't like it?" Sherlock asked.

"That is NOT a flat! It's barely a room! Mycroft said 221C. A _flat_ next door. That isn't a flat," Addie yelled.

"Oh right. That. Seems 221C was deemed unlivable. Some kind of structural damage. Luckily Mrs. Hudson was able to open up the bedroom since it isn't technically attached to the rest of the flat," Sherlock explained.

"What did you do?!"

"I'm offended that you think I had anything to do with this," Sherlock huffed.

Addie folded her arms and shot him a scathing look. "So, what? Now I have to live with you guys? Like literally live with you? Like share a kitchen, sitting room, and all your ruddy experiments?"

Sherlock didn't acknowledge her and went back to looking for cases.

"That "flat" better come with its own bathroom because there is no way in hell I am sharing a bathroom with you two!"

"Oh god, no! Of course it comes with its own bathroom. I'd never share with you!" Sherlock replied, still perusing his website.

"Well good. It's not a total loss then. Now I'm off to shower in my own bathroom and unpack. Don't bother me," Addie said before turning and leaving the room.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sherlock said typing away.

* * *

John came home a few hours later looking exhausted and peevish. The patients were relentless and he hardly got two minutes to use the bathroom before he had another patient to take care of. He was in need of a very strong cup of tea, a nice long shower, and his comfy armchair to collapse into.

He walked into the living room and saw Sherlock sprawled out on the sofa looking annoyed. He clearly hadn't moved from his spot for several hours.

John greeted Sherlock with a "hello" and received a grunt in response. He made his way to the kitchen to fix himself some tea. With his long awaited cup of tea in his hand, John shuffled over to his armchair and collapsed onto it. He was savoring his drink when he noticed the flat was strangely quiet and the feeling that something was missing.

"Sherlock, where's Addie?" he asked.

Sherlock didn't move a muscle or even turn to look at him as he responded, "In her room, obviously."

"Well, has she been out recently?"

"Don't know. Don't care," was the response.

"Ah, I see. She saw the state of her flat then?" John asked.

"Yes and as usual her reaction was extremely overdramatic and uncalled for. She's been sulking in her room ever since," Sherlock said.

"And you've been sulking out here," John said.

Sherlock finally turned to John and glared at him. "I am not _sulking_! I'm just bored. And Addie won't come out so I can deduce her and get her all annoyed. She's no fun, really."

"Did you try going to her room to talk to her?" John suggested.

"Too much effort."

"Right then. I'll leave you to your non-sulking," John said, rising from his chair.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm off to have a shower. Some of us normal people have been at work all day and need to relax," John replied.

"Dull," Sherlock said.

John rolled his eyes and walked out of the room towards the bathroom. He contemplated knocking on Addie's door to check on her, but his sore muscles won out and he continued on his way. Plus, Addie and Sherlock were adults. Let them handle it themselves like civilized, mature grown-ups. Though he highly doubted that to happen with these two.

John emerged ten minutes later feeling refreshed and ready to take on the two Holmes siblings and their bad moods. What he was not prepared for was the sound of bullets firing from the living room.

He was out of his room in a flash, nearly bumping into Addie on the way. They both scrambled into the room in a panic.

"What the hell is going on?" John roared when he saw the scene. Sherlock was lying on the sofa looking straight ahead as he fired bullet after bullet into the wall opposite him.

"Sherlock for god's sake, put the gun down! Do you want someone to call the police?" Addie yelled over the sound.

"Oh don't be silly, no one's going to call the police," Sherlock scoffed at her.

"Well, would you like to explain what's going on then?" John asked.

"I'm bored," Sherlock whined.

Addie rolled her eyes at her brother's childish response. "And I suppose firing bullets into a bright yellow smiley face is working wonders to alleviate the boredom?"

"It is actually. In my mind it keeps changing from Mycroft's face to yours. Helping me let out all my frustrations," Sherlock replied.

"Whatever," Addie scoffed.

"Ok, well as wonderful as it is to have you relieve your frustrations, can we do it in a more civilized way that doesn't involve, I don't know, blasting holes in the wall?!" John yelled.

"Fine," Sherlock replied, dropping the gun to the floor.

"Great, now he's going to sulk the rest of the day," Addie groaned.

"I am not sulking!" Sherlock yelled, his anger cut short at the sound of his phone.

He immediately jumped up and checked it. "Yes!" he shouted, springing to his feet in glee.

"Lestrade's got a case. Murder, disappearance, mysterious symbols. Sounds thrilling!" He was now frantically running around the room gathering his things to leave any moment.

John sighed, glad he took the time to shower and relax for a bit as he grabbed his coat too. Addie was already standing in the entry way waiting for them to follow her downstairs.

Sherlock paused in his fury of activity and stopped beside Addie in the doorway. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you slow pokes to get a move on so we can go to this case," she replied.

"What makes you think you get to tag along?" he says giving her a scrutinizing look.

"Oh come on Sherlock, I've worked cases before too. I know what I'm doing."

"Nope. Sorry. No room in the cab."

"You're being completely ridiculous! I'm coming on this case."

"Hmmm…no!"

Addie nearly screamed in frustration. "Don't make me call Mycroft!"

"You really think he'll side with you on this?" Sherlock laughed.

She stared him down for a good few seconds, giving him her best death glare. "I said. I'm going," she said, eerily calm.

"And I said no," Sherlock replied, returning her glare and using his best "big brother means business" voice.

Once again John was caught in the awkward in-between with the Holmes siblings. The tension was making him uneasy but something told him he might as well get used to it all.

The tension was finally broken by Addie's phone going off. She looked at it and smirked, shouting a triumphant "Ha!"

She shoved the text in Sherlock's face, showing him the message from Lestrade telling her to get down to the crime scene as soon as possible. She reveled in her victory as she snatched up her coat and made for the stairs.

"Can't argue with Scotland Yard," she said walking away.

John looked to Sherlock and noticed him trying his best to conceal his rage towards his little sister. He found himself glad he'd snatched up Sherlock's gun from the floor earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks again for the reviews and followings! Here's the next chapter :) ****Sorry, this one's a bit short. I'll post the next one soon to make up for it!**

* * *

Chapter 5

They pulled up to the scene and saw Lestrade, Donovan, and Anderson gathered around talking. Sherlock, as usual was the one out of the cab first, his long coat swishing behind him dramatically. Addie climbed out and immediately started taking in the situation. It must be more than just an average killing if so many police and detectives were around. She was brought out of her head by a shout.

"Oi! Carson!" Oh, Lestrade. "Where have you been? Just up and disappeared for a bit. Never answered your phone."

"Oh hi sir. Yeah, sorry about that. My phone must be going faulty. Need to have it checked out," she said, shooting Sherlock an annoyed look.

Lestrade followed her gaze and looked to Sherlock. "Oh, you two working together then? I knew you two had a lot in common." He remarked.

"More than you know," Sherlock replied cheekily.

"Alright then?" Lestrade asked Addie, turning back to face her. "Seemed in a big hurry when you left."

"Yes, I'm fine. Just had a bit of family business to take care of. But it's alright. Nothing that can't be dealt with on my downtime," she replied.

Sherlock gave a scoff and a laugh. Lestrade looked to him slightly puzzled before focusing back on Addie.

"Anyways Carson, we've got a bit of a difficult one for you. You see…"

Sherlock cut him off, "You know Lestrade, if she's going to continue working with us, you might as well address her by her real name."

"What are you talking about?" he asked. No answer. Lestrade focused on John instead, "What is he talking about?"

John sighed knowing Sherlock wasn't going to bother trying to explain it to Lestrade's feeble mind.

"It seems to be that Ms. Carson isn't in fact who she says she is," John explained.

"Ok…then who is she?" Lestrade asked.

"Well, her name is Addie, first of all, not Andie."

"Oh great, have I been saying it wrong all this time? And you never corrected me? That's embarrassing," Lestrade said.

Sherlock, getting sick of all the back and forth and the guessing, decided to come out and say it. "No Lestrade, you haven't been saying it wrong, well, technically you have, but let's get to the point shall we?"

Lestrade nodded at him.

"Her name is not Andrea Carson, or "Andie" as you so affectionately call her. Her name is Adelaide. Or Addie as she prefers. And she's not "working" with me as you so put it. And the family problems she speaks of do in fact involve everyone here," Sherlock explained.

"What are you on about?" Lestrade was getting annoyed now.

"Her name is Adelaide Holmes. Holmes. H-O-L-M-E-S. Homles. She's my sister, as much as I loathe to admit it," Sherlock said.

"You mean there's more than one of you freaks?" Donovan piped up from behind them.

"Three to be exact. We have a brother named Mycroft," Addie said.

"I knew there was something too similar about you two! I recognized it when I first met her. Reminded me too much of you," Lestrade said, smiling triumphantly. "Makes sense now."

"Yes, well, as enlightening as this revelation has been, shall we get on with the case?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

He and John started to follow Lestrade into the building. Addie made to follow them before she was stopped by Donovan.

"You really related to him?" she asked her.

"Yes," Addie replied.

Donovan looked at her sympathetically. "I'm so sorry," she said.

Addie smirked, catching the sarcasm in her voice as she expressed her condolences for having Sherlock as a brother.

"I think I like her," she exclaimed after Sherlock and John. Sherlock said nothing and continued into the building.

Addie immediately started her deductions, taking in every detail about the place, but mostly reading the people on the scene. A police officer in his mid-forties, unsatisfied with his job, marital problems, drowns his sorrows in packages of sugar donuts judging by his wide frame. Another officer, early 50s, devoted father and husband, working a late shift and no doubt missing an important family event judging by the way he keeps looking at his watch. Newbie officer: first case and first crime scene; extremely over-excited and eager to please, trying to impress his female colleague and hoping to get lucky tonight. Security guard at the door: shifty eyes and bruised knuckles, which isn't unusual in his profession, but it also isn't likely he gets much action at this boring museum. He has to know something.

Lestrade approached them and waited for Sherlock and Addie to finish their observations. "Anyone worth questioning or are we wasting our time?" he asked.

"The security guard," both Addie and Sherlock replied at the same time. They gave each other calculating looks before turning back to John and Lestrade, who looked lost once again.

"The security guard? But he's way over there. How'd you get anything from him?" John asked.

"His knuckles are bruised, which isn't completely unusual, but being a museum security guard, he isn't likely to get much action. Plus he mostly patrols the cars and the ticket booth, hardly a center of violent activity," Addie answered.

"Also, he's standing awkwardly, favoring his right side to alleviate the pressure on his bruised knee. Whatever he encountered was more than just your average annoyed customer waiting in too long of a queue. He saw a different kind of action in the past 12 hours and he hasn't yet recovered from it," Sherlock finished.

Lestrade looked back and forth between the two of them. "My god, you really are related," he said. "And you say he's worth questioning because he's standing awkwardly on his right side?"

"Obviously," Sherlock and Addie replied again, in unison.

"You know, we really need to stop doing that," Addie said turning to Sherlock. He nodded back at her.

"So, shall you take the security guard then?" Lestrade asked Addie.

"Nah, Sherlock can handle him. I've got the lanky records keeper in the corner," she replied.

"Alright, I'm off to talk to the police. Let me know what you find out," Lestrade said, walking away.

"You aren't going to question the security guard?" John asked. "I thought you did all the questioning at the scenes?"

Sherlock said nothing, studying her with a peculiar look.

"I do, but the kid in the corner looks like he saw something too. He'd be easier to question than the security guard, who isn't going anywhere for a while. This records keeper might bail soon. Plus, he finds me attractive, which would work to my advantage," Addie said.

Sherlock scoffed at her.

"What? He's not allowed to find me attractive? It's been known to happen, Sherlock," she said, irritated. "Oh, it's not that, is it? You doubt my abilities to get him to talk. Well, watch and see big brother." And with that she walked off towards the skinny kid in the corner.

Sherlock and John watched as she shyly approached the boy and started making casual conversation. Soon the two were laughing and chatting with each other, Addie not being overtly flirtatious, but clearly putting on the moves to influence him to open up more.

"Wow, she really is quite good isn't she?" John said, looking to Sherlock.

Sherlock hadn't moved from his spot and his eyes never left Addie. He looked puzzled and slightly disconcerted.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" John asked.

"It's nothing. I've just never seen her like this before. I mean, in this situation. It's just…odd," he answered.

"I can imagine it would be pretty weird to witness your little sister being such a flirtatious young woman. I'd be a little freaked out myself," John said.

"See, that's the thing John. You said "woman." Which is entirely correct given the fact that she is 24-years-old and she is well past the age of being considered a child, but I still find it…odd," he said.

"Ah, I see. Can't quite grasp the fact that she's not a little girl anymore? She was, what, 18 when she "died" if my math is correct? Hardly just entered adulthood. Still a child really. And now seeing her as a woman is difficult to understand. She'll always be a little girl in your eyes won't she?" John said, looking to Sherlock.

Sherlock gave him an unreadable look and scoffed as he turned and walked away. John shook his head and smiled fondly. As stubborn as the Holmes family was turning out to be, there was no doubt he was enjoying their company. Living with them was exciting and unpredictable, and it sure as hell beat a normal 9 to 5 work day and a lonely flat to come home to.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the reviews and such! You rock! Here's chapter 6 :)**

* * *

Chapter 6

There was nothing more they could do at the museum for the time being, so Sherlock, John and Addie loaded into a cab to go back home and put the pieces together. The cab was silent as Sherlock and Addie were lost in their minds. They were brought out of their thoughts by John's phone going off.

"Oh crap! I was supposed to go into St. Bart's today! I completely lost track of time," John said, rubbing his hand over his face.

Sherlock didn't look all that sympathetic but he decided to help John out this time. "Well, I have to go observe the bodies anyways, you can do your doctor thing while we're in the morgue."

"Really? You'll wait for me to be done?" John asked.

"As long as you don't take a ridiculously long time," Sherlock answered.

"Wow, thanks."

Addie smiled discreetly. She knew Sherlock would have never done that for anyone he didn't care about. Seems John Watson had begun to bring Sherlock's feelings to the surface. She hoped it would continue, considering just how deep those feelings were buried in him.

Sherlock told the cab driver to go to St. Bart's instead and they settled back into their silence.

"You know, " Addie began. "It's funny."

"Oh do please enlighten us about what's so funny," Sherlock said in a bored tone.

"It's funny that you still wear that scarf."

"What's wrong with my scarf?" Sherlock asked defensively.

"Nothing. It's just…you don't remember do you?"

"Obviously not," Sherlock answered.

"I gave you that scarf. For Christmas. The last one we had before…you know…Thought you had forgotten about it and tossed it out. You made a point to mention how 'utterly repulsive' it was." She said, doing her best Sherlock voice.

"I did. Forget about it, that is. I happened to need a warm scarf one day and all of my others were dirty. I had no choice but to use this one. As repulsive as it is," he said.

"Sherlock, you wear that scarf every day. You have for as long as I've known you," John said.

Sherlock shot him a patented Holmes scowl and silently told him to shut up. Addie looked smug and satisfied with John's comment.

"So you didn't find it as repulsive as you said," Addie smiled.

"Don't be ridiculous, the scarf serves the purpose of keeping my neck warm. Even if it is repulsive it's better than a cold neck," Sherlock replied.

"Sure it is…" Addie teased.

"Oh look, we're here. Everybody out. Thank you," John paid the cab driver and slid out, waiting for Addie and Sherlock.

"Alright so, I'll be up on the 3rd floor. Patients ward. I'll meet you back in the morgue when I'm done?" John asked.

Sherlock grunted in response and turned on his heal to go find Molly, leaving John and Addie behind.

John turned to Addie with an exasperated look. "He's just sulking. He'll come around."

"I know. He gets like that. Like a bloody child sometimes. We'll be alright. Good luck with your patients. I'll do my best not to make Sherlock too angry and hopefully by the time you get to the morgue there won't be any new bodies to deal with," she gave a big smile then walked off after Sherlock.

Addie approached the door to the morgue and knocked tentatively. She wasn't sure if Sherlock was in there or not. He'd said that's where he was going, but with Sherlock you never know.

The door opened a crack and a young woman with ginger hair peeked out.

"Oh, umm, I'm sorry, only authorized personnel are allowed in here," she said awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, I was just looking for someone. He said he'd be down here in the morgue. Do you know a man named Sherlock?" Addie asked.

"Sherlock?" the woman asked. "You know Sherlock?"

"Yeah, I'm here with him. He kind of just disappeared on me. Is he here?" Addie asked.

"Molly, it's alright, you can let her in. She's with me," she heard Sherlock's voice.

Molly opened the door for her and let her in. She eyed Addie suspiciously and asked cautiously. "So, you're with Sherlock then?"

Addie pulled up a stool across from Sherlock. "Yes, unfortunately," She answered.

"Unfortunately? You're not happy to be with Sherlock?" Molly asked.

Addie gave her a strange look and looked to Sherlock. "I'm sorry. We weren't properly introduced. Molly, is it?"

"Yeah, Molly Hooper," she stuck out her hand.

"I'm Adelaide. Adelaide Holmes. But you can call me Addie. Pleasure," she said returning the hand shake.

"Addie Holmes…oh, you're related to Sherlock," Molly stated.

"Excellent observation Molly," Sherlock said sarcastically.

"I'm Sherlock's sister. I work with him…sort of," Addie explained.

"Oh, so you're here with him to help with the case. You're not "with" him," Molly said.

"Yeah…." Addie said awkwardly.

Molly, now realizing that Addie isn't a threat or "involved" with Sherlock is relieved, but also now embarrassed to have been so suspicious in the first place.

"Well, I'm off to get some coffee and crisps. Anybody want anything? No? Ok," Molly said shuffling out.

"Well that was awkward," Addie said.

Sherlock snorted but continued staring at his microscope.

"She fancies you, you know," Addie stated.

Sherlock looked up from his work and gave her a confused look. "No she doesn't.

Addie scoffed. "You know Sherlock, for a genius, you really are dense sometimes."

"How do you know she fancies me?" he asked.

"Please Sherlock, it's me. How do you think I know?"

Sherlock went back to his microscope.

"Once she'd eliminated me as a threat she was much more relieved and accepting. Really, Sherlock, it's right in front of your nose. You simply need to _observe_," she teased him.

Sherlock was about to retort when Molly came back through the door with drinks and crisps. "I thought I'd bring some food anyways. We could be here a while," she smiled sweetly and set a cup of coffee in front of Sherlock. "Two sugars right?"

Sherlock nodded and thanked her. Addie shot him a look and raised her eyebrow. He ignored her.

Molly walked away to tend to other things, knowing that Sherlock liked his space and his silence.

"So, found anything else?" Addie asked.

"Not much. I'm sampling the hair for DNA and comparing it to the samples I got at the crime scene. No matches so far though," Sherlock said.

"Do you need help? Because I could. Help that is," Addie said.

"Finally over the Barbie doll incident are we?" Sherlock asked cheekily.

"Yeah well, you replaced her so I guess all's forgiven," Addie replied.

Sherlock looked up and smiled at her. A sincere smile. Not his signature smirk or his condescending twitch of his lips. A real genuine smile he reserves for only certain people. Addie had yet to see it since she "came back" and she realized how much she missed it.

He handed her a plastic bag and she took it from him gently. "Here, you can test the residue on the clothing. See if you can identify the substance."

"Aye Aye, Captain!" She saluted him.

He laughed and saluted back. "Try not to mess up. Need to make sure you haven't gotten rusty in your 'absence.'"

She threw a crisp at him and he dodged it and went back to his microscope. He then lodged his own crisp at her and it bounced off her head "Oi! Watch it! I'm working here!" she teased.

Sherlock was just extracting the sample he tested when Addie's crisp hit him on his nose. "Ten points!" she shouted.

An hour later John entered the morgue to find Addie and Sherlock sharing a microscope, engaged in an intense experiment, the table around them littered with crisps.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks for the reviews/favorites/followers! You all make me smile :) Hope you are all enjoying this story. It's always nice to know people are reading. Not sure how long this fic will be, but I've written up to Chapter 15 so far. Anyways, without further ado...Chapter 7!**

* * *

Chapter 7

John sat in a stool at the lab quietly talking with Molly. Neither of them wanted to disturb Addie, and especially Sherlock, in their research.

"They're creepily alike, those two," Molly remarked.

"Well, they are siblings," John said cheekily.

Molly shot him an annoyed look. "No, I mean, it's just weird that there are two of them. Pretty sure the world can barely handle one. Two might make it implode," she joked.

John chuckled and agreed. "Yeah, they're two peas in a pod. They're always at it. Constantly. Feels like I should add "referee" to my resume. Stubborn gits."

"We can hear everything you're saying. Neither of you possess the art of secrecy," Sherlock said from across the room.

"And quite frankly, I'm offended," Addie added. John and Molly looked guilty. "Saying I'm just like Sherlock, when everyone knows I'm the smarter Holmes."

Sherlock outright laughed at that. Addie scowled and sent another crisp his way. Sherlock's quick reflexes kicked in and he caught it mid-air before he chucked it back at her.

It hit her in the eye. "Oww! Joooohn! Sherlock hit me in the eye with the crisp!" Addie whined.

Sherlock smirked and looked up innocently at John and Molly.

"If you two aren't going to eat those then throw them away and get back to work," John sighed.

"Yes, father," mocked Sherlock.

Suddenly Addie's text alert went off.

_John is right. Stop behaving like children and focus on the case._

_-MH_

"Big brother is watching us," Addie said, mixing her substances in a test tube. She texted back.

_Isn't this some kind of invasion of privacy? Not to mention it's downright creepy._

_-AH_

Another text alert

_It's not creepy, it's protective._

_-MH_

Addie made a face at the phone and set it down.

_I saw that._

_-MH_

Addie, more than a little freaked out, pushed the phone far away from her in a hurry.

"So, what have you two accomplished so far? Other than making a complete mess of the lab?" John asked.

"The DNA found on the sleeve of the dead scientist, matches that of the museum manager. Most likely he was annoyed about the fame the scientist was getting and felt as if he was due his own share of fame considering he's the one who gave the scientist his big break. A case of juvenile jealousy," Sherlock said.

"What did the security guard say?" John asked.

"Nothing much. He was an idiot. Got his injuries from a bar fight the night before. I believed him. He's too stupid to be involved somehow," Sherlock answered.

"So the manager killed the scientist out of envy, so he could start getting the money and fame he felt he deserved?" Molly asked.

"Exactly."

"There might be more to it though," Addie began.

Sherlock whirled around to face her, a shocked and angry look on his face.

"The records keeper told me that the manager had been spending a lot of time with the secretary. At first he though they were seeing each other, but then he said he saw them exchanging information with each other often. He didn't mention it, but I'm sure the manager was paying the secretary to spy on the scientist. The secretary, being in a position that involves the passing and handling of information would be the perfect accomplice, seeing as how no one would suspect a secretary's desk to be covered with papers and notes and no one would look twice at what those notes contained," Addie said.

"Wow. So the manager and the secretary were in on it together? And all this time their plans for the murder were right under everyone's noses?" John said.

"Yep."

"Brilliant! I'll go contact Lestrade," John said walking out of the room.

"So did you find all this out before or after you seduced the poor records keeper?" Sherlock asked. "Nice to know you come to your deductions by such honest means."

"No need to be bitter, Sherlock," Addie retorted. "And you're one to talk. It was you who taught me to act and lie to get the information I need."

"Yes, well, I'm so lucky to have your _talents_ assisting me on my cases."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous. You're jealous and annoyed that you didn't figure it all out for yourself."

"Don't be ridiculous. I am neither bitter nor jealous," Sherlock scoffed.

"Fine. Just don't go hiring a secretary to plan my murder with," Addie joked.

"Oops, too late," Sherlock replied.

John walked back in closing his phone. "Lestrade is pleased. I told him to arrest the manager and the secretary. He gives his thanks to the 'Holmes duo' as he calls you."

"Uggh, is he going to refer to us as that from now on?" Addie asked.

"It is revolting, not to mention insulting," Sherlock said.

"He seemed to like it. I think it's rather funny," John said.

"You would," said Addie rolling her eyes.

John ignored her and began gathering up the empty crisp bags. "Well, are we done here? Can we finally go back to the flat?"

Sherlock nodded and started putting away the equipment with the help of Molly.

"Addie can clean up the crisps. She started this little idiotic food fight," Sherlock said.

"Hey! You participated, thus contributing to the mess," Addie replied.

"Someone just clean up the bloody crisps so we can go home," John sighed.

"Fine!" Addie began clearing the crumbs and sweeping them into the trash, grumbling and cursing Sherlock the whole time.

* * *

At the door John thanked Molly and shook her hand. Addie also thanked her and nodded. She elbowed Sherlock then gestured towards Molly. Sherlock rolled his eyes but thanked Molly all the same. Molly looked positively elated to have been thanked by Sherlock and she closed the lab door dreamily.

The next morning at 221B and 221B and a half, as Addie liked to refer to her room, all was quiet and content. Sherlock was in his room, either sleeping or on his website, the latter the more likely of the two. John was sleeping most definitely judging by the snores she could hear coming from upstairs.

Addie was extremely bored in her room so she decided to walk around the flat and see if there was anything to do. She wandered around 221B, not encountering much besides a bookshelf, some magazines and newspapers, Sherlock's annoying experiments, and his violin sitting on its stand. She contemplated picking it up and trying to play it, but she didn't particularly fancy being killed, so she kept walking by. Finding nothing to satisfy her boredom she wandered into the kitchen to grab a snack, hoping that John had the sense to go to the store because she knew Sherlock wouldn't.

She opened the fridge and nearly screamed at the sight of a human head staring back at her. She closed her eyes and quickly closed the door.

"It's quite disturbing isn't it," she heard a voice behind her say.

Addie jumped and turned toward the voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry dear. Did I startle you?" an elderly woman asked her, a sweet smile on her face.

"No, I'm fine," Addie said shaking her head. "I don't think we've officially met yet. I'm Adelaide. You're Mrs. Hudson I presume."

"Yes, I am Mrs. Hudson. Pleasure to meet you Adelaide. Or Addie, is it? Your brother mentioned you prefer Addie."

"Which one?"

"The proper one who carries the umbrella," Mrs. Hudson replied.

"Ah, Mycroft."

"So, you're the housekeeper then?" Addie asked, watching Mrs. Hudson unload groceries into the cupboards and the fridge.

"Not your housekeeper dear, just the landlady."

"Well, not many landladies would go buy us groceries," Addie said helping her put everything away.

"Poor John looked too exhausted to do it earlier, so I stole the list from his desk and decided to do it for him. Someone has got to look after you three," Mrs. Hudson smiled.

Addie returned the smile.

Sherlock walked into the kitchen in his pajamas and dressing gown and started fumbling around for some milk and biscuits. "Did you buy the raspberry scones this time?" he asked.

"You're welcome Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson shot back at him. "I was just having a chat with your lovely sister here. Such a charming young girl."

Addie smiled at Sherlock haughtily.

"There's no need to be so falsely kind Mrs. Hudson. You don't need to flatter her," Sherlock replied, biting his scone.

"Awww, Sherlock, you don't think I'm lovely and charming? I'm hurt!" Addie said placing her hand on her chest.

"Sherlock, what are these holes doing in the wall?"

Addie and Sherlock exchanged nervous glances. "Hey, this is all on you big brother," she said before backing further into the kitchen.

"This will be coming out of your rent young man!"

Addie snickered at him from the other side of the table.

Mrs. Hudson reappeared to finish putting the groceries away. She took a large bottle out of the bag and placed it on the counter.

"I got you a little something extra. Thought you might enjoy it on the off hours that you are home and relaxing. The man at the store called it the best wine in London," she said.

Sherlock actually looked appreciative and smiled at her as a thank you. Addie took the bottle and looked at it.

"Thanks Mrs. Hudson. I'm sure we'll enjoy it very much," she said.

"Who says you're getting any?" Sherlock asked raising an eyebrow.

"You know you look like Mycroft when you do that," Addie said. Sherlock looked disgusted and immediately wiped the Mycroft look off his face. "And, I'll have you know, I am more than of age to drink alcohol Sherlock."

"I bought it for all three of you. Be sure to share," Mrs. Hudson said, giving Sherlock a pointed look.

"We'll see. If she behaves I might let her have some." Sherlock warned.

"What are you, my mummy?"

"Why? Do you need one?"

Addie was about to tell Sherlock exactly what she needed and what he could do with it when Mrs. Hudson interjected.

"Well, that's it for me. I'll be off. Play nice dears," she said walking out of the kitchen.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks so much for the follows/favorites and reviews! You all make me smile so much! Here's Chapter 8. I tried to bring some humor in. It does get a little angsty after this chapter, but it will cheer up again soon after that. This is the set-up to the angst. Hope you enjoy. Oh and this is in no way based off of personal expereince...much. hehe :)**

* * *

Chapter 8

It's rather funny, Addie mused. How such great minds like hers and her brothers could make such rash and stupid decisions. She supposed that their brains, being too overcrowded with knowledge and abilities, needed to weed out the less important things. And usually those things had to do with common sense and intelligent decision making.

Sherlock, being his usual "sociopathic" self, was normally the one who found himself in these stupid situations and suffering their consequences. However, this time it was Sherlock who managed to have a level head, and Addie who was the one completely off her rocker.

In her defense though, she did have a very powerful agent to blame for her poor decision making to a certain extent, but there was no denying her complete idiocy at landing herself in the situation in the first place.

It was following a particularly long and tedious case. It had them all frazzled, on edge, and at each other's throats. There were times they doubted their ability to solve it and considered the notion of giving up. But, the power of the 'Holmes duo' played out and the case was solved. Another victory won and another disaster diverted.

Lestrade was over the moon and felt he owed them all a little something for their hard work and dedication. He offered to buy them all rounds at the local pub and anything else they might like. Sherlock and Addie were fit to decline and go home, but something in Addie had her rethinking that. Her curiosity was winning the battle over her rationality and she found herself accepting the offer and following them all to the pub. Sherlock, ever her bodyguard, reluctantly followed. Addie had never been exposed much to alcohol, being barely 18 when she "died." Most people, at that age, would have been well acquainted with alcohol and its effects on their bodies, even being below the legal drinking age, but most people didn't have two big brothers like Mycroft and Sherlock who were quick to remove any temptation of any kind from her path.

Addie was tempted by the forbidden aspect of alcohol, seeing as she was never allowed to have it, it being yet another thing on her list of "do nots" she endlessly received from her brothers. But now, being 24, well past the age of legality, she was free to explore her curiosities and temptations, Sherlock and his protectiveness be damned.

The pub atmosphere was none too exciting and impressive to Addie. She decided drinking alcohol at home would be much more pleasant, not to mention much more convenient when one found themselves having consumed more than enough.

It started out innocently. A glass of wine and some water. Simple enough. But Lestrade insisted she get something at least a tad bit stronger if she was going to join in their festivities. He also insisted he would be sorely offended if she didn't take advantage of his hospitality by ordering something of importance.

This was how Addie ended up taking her first shot of hard liquor.

"No. She can't take you up on your offer Lestrade. I won't allow it," Sherlock said at the mention of ordering shots.

"What are you, her mother?" Lestrade said.

Sherlock pursed his lips and set his jaw. "Worse. I'm her big brother."

"Oh, get over yourself Sherlock! I'm 24 and I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions and taking care of myself," Addie replied. Little did she know those words would come back to bite her in the butt later on.

Addie downed her first shot amidst the chanting and cheering of John and Lestrade, who were well past their fair share. She got dizzy on the spot, being the lightweight she is, and Sherlock had to steady her to keep her balance. She shook him off and righted herself. She was perfectly fine and he was overreacting.

Somehow they ended up in a battle. Whoever could consume the most shots. Addie gave up after three, not fancying dying of alcohol poisoning, a decision she made even in her slightly buzzed mind.

Now knowing her aversion to shots, she settled for mixed drinks, less potent and much better tasting. In fact, they seemed to mask the bitter taste of alcohol almost completely. It was these that got her into trouble.

By her 4th drink she was feeling happier than a clam. Although that expression didn't make much sense. How could one measure the amount of happiness in a clam? And what would a clam have to be happy about anyways? Her drunken musings started spilling out of her head like the vodka spilled out of the 4th shot Lestrade ordered her.

"I find this completely fascinating; pubs. Such a public place, everyone getting hammered, trying to drown out their miserable days or weeks. Yet there's a companionship one experiences in the atmosphere. Like a kinship united by alcohol and being fostered by their inability to retain or care about common social rules and propriety," Addie rambled as she stared completely focused into the remnants of her vodka and orange. It almost appeared as if she was talking to the glass rather than those around her. And perhaps she was.

"Yes because you've always been one to focus on societal rules and propriety," Sherlock retorted.

Addie childishly stuck her tongue out at him and went back to staring at her glass. She suddenly found herself with another full glass of who-knows-what courtesy of John.

Sherlock tried to grab the glass from her hand but she pulled away from him, nearly sending herself crashing to the ground in the process. Sherlock was there to catch her and he whispered in her ear, "Enough Addie, you've had your share enough to satisfy Lestrade."

"Who says I'm doing this for him? I like alcohol Sherlock. It's good. Well, when the taste is masked by something of course. These mixed drinks are fascinating! How they can manage to make the drink taste like soda is a complete wonder!"

Sherlock knew it needed to end there, when his sister was finding fascination in beverages. Unluckily for him though, Addie was just as stubborn as any other Holmes.

It was the final shot that did her in. A harmless little chug of whiskey that sent her over the edge. She suddenly found everything around her hilarious and she couldn't stop laughing if she tried. Apparently Sherlock was not as amused as she was because he was insisting she stop her ridiculous giggling and leave with him.

She shouted a rather loud, "Piss off spoil-sport," at him, then laughed about the absurdity of the phrase 'spoil-sport'.

Lestrade and John, being the experienced drinkers they were, had come down from their alcohol induced highs and were also trying to reason with Addie about leaving the pub. Although she was a fairly small girl, it took the combined efforts of all three to get her to her feet and shuffling towards the door seeing as she was fighting them all the way, blowing kisses to various patrons and the bartender, emotionally thanking them for existing and for being a part of her night.

Finally outside, Addie was able, with the help of the night air, to clear some of her brain, unfortunately just the part that included feeling the response of one's body to certain exposures. She was now aware of being cold, dizzy, nauseous, and badly needing the loo. But those were all put on the back burner in comparison to her anger.

She was angry at her friends for taking away her happiness in a glass and she saw fit to tell them exactly how upset she was. She had a rather rude and clever insult to shoot at them, but unfortunately, all her inebriated mind could come up with was,

"You guys suck!"

"Wonderfully enlightening Addie. Glad to see your cleverness has not been lost to the alcohol," Sherlock sarcastically replied.

"You think you're so clever with your…big brain and…big coat. You just look like a poor imitation of batman and his huge cape. And your low voice, trying to intimidate people. It's hard to hear the intimidation over the sound of you being so bossy!" Addie yelled.

"Right, gross over-reactions. Check."

"You're gross!" Addie childishly shot back.

"Let's just work on getting home shall we? I've got a headache," John spoke up.

Lestrade had wandered away sometime during the confrontation and Sherlock saw him get in a cab. He'd be going to him tomorrow to thank him for all of this.

"Well, that's what happens when you engage in such idiotic activities," Sherlock said.

"Oh, like you've never indulged in anything Sherlock. Need I remind you…" Sherlock growled at him to stop before he said anything in front of Addie who was still in the dark about his addictions.

Lucky for them Addie was three sheets to the wind and actually beginning to look a little green. Sherlock grew concerned and turned to steady her.

Her eyes were unfocused and she was very pale. She seemed to be swallowing convulsively and trying to open her mouth to say something. The only warning he got was a panicked, "Sherlock!" before she flung forward and threw up on his shoes, getting on the leg of his trousers also.

She moaned, then cried a bit, before laughing at the look on John and Sherlock's faces. John decided now that they had to get moving if they were going to make it back in one piece. He was pretty sure Sherlock looked ready to kill.

He led Addie carefully to the edge of the sidewalk as he searched for a cab. Addie was protesting any form of movement however.

"John! Let me go back inside!"

"Nope. We're done. Time to go home," John said.

"But I hafta…I gotta…pee!" She said, swaying slightly.

John and Sherlock exchanged glances, trying to decide if they should allow her to go back in alone, or take her back in themselves and wait for her until she finished her business to ensure she didn't sneak off the to the bar again.

Their silent conversation was cut-off by an amused and drunken, "Oooops. Too late."

Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes. John looked horrified next to him as they turned to look at her. She looked torn between laughing and crying. Then suddenly she stumbled and her eyes rolled back in her head. Sherlock and John were quick to catch her before she could hit the pavement and they both stood there holding her awkwardly not knowing how to proceed.

A cab was now out of the question as no one would let them in with her pants being wet. They needed another way to get a ride home. Sherlock hated to do it, but he was left with no other option. He placed a quick call to Mycroft then vowed to never let his sister near alcohol ever again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter. It was something different than the rest of the story up until this point. There is some angst in this chapter and next few also. Time to explore more of Addie's past few years. Thanks again for the reviews/follows/favorites! They make my day :)**

* * *

Chapter 9

The first thing Addie was aware of when she woke up was the terrible pounding in her head and the extremely hard pillow she seemed to be sleeping on. She thought it very rude to give her such an uncomfortable pillow with her head in such a state of misery. She groaned and attempted to open her eyes.

She could barely see through her half open eyes but she quickly realized she wasn't on a bed and the pillow she was sleeping on was someone's leg instead. Spotless, tailored, and fancy trousers. Had to be Sherlock. She blinked up at him and let out another groan when he shifted his leg a bit.

"Uhhhg. Where're we?" she asked thickly. "Are we movin'? Why do I feel like we're movin'?

"We're in a car headed back home from the pub," Sherlock explained.

"Uhhhg…I don't feel good Lockie. Feel sick," she whined childishly.

"I'd imagine so," Sherlock replied.

"Make it stop Sh'lock. Please!" she pleaded with him.

"Nope. You decided to get completely smashed and you have to face the consequences."

Addie let out a pathetic whimper and clutched Sherlock's trouser leg. "Dun feel well. Feel like I'm on a roller coaster. I dun wanna ride it anymore. I wanna get off. Get me off Sh'lock!"

"Wish I could, but unfortunately it's just going to get worse," Sherlock replied, something akin to sympathy in his voice. He brought his hand to rest on her head in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

John was dozing on the seat next to him, attempting to sleep off his own hangover before they had to tend to Addie's later on. Sherlock was hoping John would feel better soon. He didn't think he could handle two hung over flatmates. Addie's would be a struggle in itself.

Addie's drunken voice spoke up again. "My head hurts. And I'm all wet."

"That's what happens when you drink too much and wet yourself," Sherlock said, slightly amused.

"I did?" Addie asked confused.

"Yes."

"Oh," she said fuzzily. "Sorry Lockie."

Addie looked so pathetic and vulnerable with her vomit stained jacket, her jeans soaked in urine, and tears gathering in her eyes that he couldn't bring himself to say anything else cheeky and condescending.

She was now sniffling and attempting to bury he head in his leg, grimacing at any slight jostle from the car. As weird as it sounded, in that moment Sherlock found himself overwhelmed with fondness towards his little sister, recalling the many times she was sick or hurt and clung to him for comfort. He would never admit it, but he missed her trust and her reliance on him to make things better. It was nice to be needed again.

Sherlock felt her deep even breaths against his leg and he ran a hand through her hair in a soothing gesture before bringing it to rest on her back. "It's alright. I'll take care of it. I'll take care of you," he said softly.

Both were unaware of John's small smile as he watched them from his "sleeping" position. It was a rare sight indeed to see Sherlock so gentle and comforting, giving in to the sentiment he claimed he didn't have. John thought to himself that if anyone could find and bring out the human in Sherlock Holmes, it was most definitely Addie.

* * *

As expected, Mycroft was at the flat waiting for them when the car pulled up. Sherlock shook John awake then they worked on getting Addie inside. Sherlock grimaced at the wetness soaking through the arm of his shirt as he carried her up the stairs, thinking of the dry cleaning bill Addie will be paying in the near future.

He set her on the couch, assured that Mycroft would watch over her for the time being while he and John went to their rooms to clean themselves up. Sherlock was in desperate need of new clothes and a shower.

Mycroft sat and watched Addie, taking in her pale complexion, her tussled hair and her completely filthy clothes and he shook his head sadly. He was eerily reminded of the times he spent helping Sherlock during his withdrawals and the same vulnerable and pathetic look he had at those times.

Addie shifted and a pained expression crossed her face. She whimpered and groaned in her sleep. Mycroft put a hand on her arm to comfort her but it did little to help. She was now twisting and tossing her head back and forth, muttering quietly. He put his ear close to her mouth to hear what she was saying.

" 'M sorry! I didn't mean to. Please, don't!"

Sherlock and John walked back into the room then, looking refreshed and more relaxed, ready to take on Addie and her hang over. They stopped when they saw her moaning on the couch, Mycroft trying to soothe her.

"Mycroft? What's going on? What happened?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know. She just started writhing around and muttering. It's not making much sense," Mycroft said, wide-eyed and confused.

"What's she saying?" asked John

"She keeps saying 'I'm sorry' and 'please don't' over and over again. I can't get her to stop," he said, frustrated and panicked at not being able to help.

"She's in a deep state of sleep right now, basically an alcohol induced coma. She's not aware of anything around her and the effects of the "drug" in her system are adding the confusion," John explained.

"Yes, yes, but how do we get her to stop?" Sherlock asked, looking worried.

"I'm afraid we can't. We've just got to let it run its course and offer as much comfort as possible," John explained.

Sherlock let out a frustrated growl and perched himself on the arm of the couch by Addie's head.

"No! Stop, please stop! I'm sorry! I'll do what you say! Just leave 'em alone! Please!" Addie begged as she tossed and shook her head.

"Shhhh! It's alright Addie. No one's going to hurt you. You're ok," Mycroft muttered as he moved closer to her and took her hands in his. He looked scared and helpless, looking to Sherlock and John, completely at a loss of what to do.

"What's she saying? Who's she talking to?" Sherlock asked angrily as he nervously brought his fingers to his lips.

"Do you…do you think it's possible that she's remembering? That it might have to do with what happened five years ago?" John asked.

"I think that is very possible John," Mycroft responded gravely.

Addie now had tears running down her face and her breathing was becoming more labored by the second. "I…I can't. I won't! Let me go, please! NO!" she screamed before jumping up and gasping for air. There was no warning when she vomited forcefully on the floor in front of the couch. Mycroft caught her before she could face-plant into the mess and guided her back to lie down.

Addie was now sobbing and shaking and she threw herself at Mycroft and squeezed him around his middle. She didn't seem intent on letting him go so he maneuvered himself on to the couch with her and waited for her to fall back into her drunken sleep.

Sherlock silently got up and started playing his violin. Lost in his thoughts and escaping the reality he didn't want to face. Eventually the sound of the violin soothed Addie back to sleep and thankfully her night terrors abated.

Mycroft would have left at that point, her being calm and peaceful once again, if it weren't for the fear and worry he felt after witnessing her fit. He decided comforting her and staying close by was more important than getting her out of her soiled clothes since he wasn't quite sure how stable she was and if she would remain that way.

He settled himself more comfortably on the couch with her still clinging to him tightly and closed his eyes. Sherlock was still playing and Mycroft hummed along to the tune as he rested his head on the back of the couch.

John, being the doctor and the one with the least aversion to bodily functions, set to work on cleaning the mess Addie made of the floor, not wanting it to set into the carpet.

The soft melody of Sherlock's song eventually lulled Mycroft to sleep as well and John covered him and Addie with a blanket from the back of his armchair.

John was suddenly aware that the music stopped playing and he turned to look at Sherlock. Sherlock's expression was blank as he looked at his siblings asleep on the sofa. He saw his mouth twitch into a satisfied smile and he set the violin down in its stand. John suddenly understood. Sherlock, being so frustrated and at a loss on how to help take care of Addie, and Mycroft for that matter since he seemed to be panicking as much as Sherlock, decided to offer comfort in the only other way he knew how; through music.

"Go to sleep now, John," Sherlock's deep voice rumbled from behind him. "I'll take it from here." And he settled down in his armchair to watch over his siblings.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey all! Thanks for the follows/favorites/reviews once again! I know I say that everytime but I really do appreciate them! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Little less angst and a bit of humor. Without further ado...here's Chapter 10.**

* * *

Chapter 10

"Oh god!" Addie groaned when she came out of her alcohol induced coma. "Feel like I've been hit by a bus!"

"Close. More like half your weight in alcohol," said a voice above her.

"How is that close?"

"It's not," the voice said amused.

"Ugh, don't try to joke. I might throw up on you,"

"Wouldn't be the first time. In 24 hours I might add."

Addie looked up and saw Sherlock's smug face looming over her.

"What happened last night?" she asked covering her eyes from the harsh lights.

"Would you like the long version or the short version?" Sherlock asked.

"Short."

"You got completely and utterly piss drunk," Sherlock said with the hint of smile.

"Glad you find my position so amusing," Addie replied snarkily.

"I do actually. It was very entertaining. Right, John?" Sherlock said, addressing John who was in the kitchen reading the paper.

"Leave me out of this!"

"Oh but you're forgetting who was partly responsible for said drunkenness, hmm. Do the words "toss it back" and "chug!" ring any bells?"

There was silence from the kitchen. Addie's brain was too sluggish to keep up or she would have been angry at John. But for right now, her brain was fuzzy and could only focus on one thing at a time.

"Was Mycroft here?" she asked.

"Yes. He left about an hour ago. Went to get his car cleaned. Which Lestrade will be paying for," Sherlock said, sitting down in his armchair with a cup of coffee.

"Lestrade?"

"Yes. You made a bit of a mess actually. He'll be regretting his free drink offer very soon I'd imagine."

"You said I threw up on you?" Addie asked as she slowly sat up.

"Yes. On my shoes and my trousers. Which will need dry cleaning by the way. Oh and my shirt too since I had to carry you up the stairs with your wet jeans soaking into my sleeve," Sherlock stated matter-of-factly. "Shall I leave the bill with you then?"

"My wet…" her eyes widened. "Oh god! I didn't!"

"Oh yes, dear sister, you did. But don't worry, accidents happen sometimes," he said giving her a condescendingly sympathetic look.

"Really gives meaning to the term 'piss drunk' doesn't it?" John said from the next room, failing to hide his laughter.

Sherlock snorted into his coffee and nearly choked.

"Don't think you're off the hook John. I'll find out what part you played in this and I'll pay you back for it," Addie threatened, trying to sound intimidating but sounding pathetic instead given the scratchy voice and slight slur of her words.

"Oh, no! What will she do? Pee on my favorite jumper?" John teased.

Sherlock didn't even try to hide his laugh at that point.

Addie looked less than amused.

"Oh come on Addie, don't be so grumpy, we're just _taking the piss_," Sherlock said smirking.

They could hear the sound of John choking on his breakfast in the kitchen.

Addie scowled and worked on rising from the couch to go to her room. "I'm so glad I can provide so much comic relief for you two. Now if you're quite finished, I'm in desperate need of a shower and some new clothes. I'm filthy! Seems someone, who calls himself my big brother, didn't see fit to help me last night!"

"You're perfectly capable of getting yourself fixed up. It hasn't been my job since you were about 3 or 4," Sherlock replied cheekily.

Addie stuck her tongue out and slowly stood up. "Brat. I'm off to get clean and take as many aspirin as humanly possible for my awful headache."

"When you're done come in and have some breakfast," Sherlock said.

"I'm not hungry at all!" she said

"Ah, but we made your favorite: bacon wrapped sausage with pancakes smothered in syrup and gravy," he replied.

Addie's face went, quite literally, green and she moaned before dashing off to the loo to be sick.

John howled with laughter right along with Sherlock as they sat at the table sipping their drinks.

When Addie was getting herself cleaned up John addressed Sherlock about what had happened the night before.

"So," he began warily.

"So…?" Sherlock prompted.

"So, are you going to talk to her about last night?" John asked.

"Isn't that what we just did?"

"No. I mean about the nightmares," John said impatiently. "See if we can get her to elaborate, or open up more about it."

"That's highly unlikely John," Sherlock replied. "Addie is stubborn. She won't open up about it. And no amount of coaxing is going to change that."

"But isn't it worth a try at least?"

"Nope," Sherlock said.

John sighed and gave it up. He would just try his own approach if Sherlock wasn't going to cooperate.

Addie eventually stumbled back into the kitchen and plopped down on a chair. She accepted the mug of tea from Sherlock but didn't take a sip of it. Her stomach was still churning and she really didn't want the entire contents of it to appear on the table.

"Drink it Addie, it'll make you feel better," Sherlock prodded.

"I highly doubt that," she answered.

"I mixed in some pain killers and some ginger ale to help settle your stomach," Sherlock said.

Addie still looked warily at the cup and eyed Sherlock to see if he was lying or "taking the piss" again. She tentatively lifted the cup to her lips and took a sip. Suddenly her face contorted in disgust and it took all she had not to spit it out on the table.

"UGH! What the hell Sherlock? That's disgusting!"

"I never said it tasted good. I said it would make you feel better," Sherlock said.

"Not if I throw it up," Addie said.

"Oh well, suit yourself," he shrugged. Addie grudgingly decided to gag her way through the tea, deciding it was better than a full day of misery.

John took advantage of her silence and complacency to approach the subject of her nightmares from the night before.

"So, uh, Addie," he began. "What do you remember about last night?"

"Practically nothing. I remember going to the pub and ordering some wine. Then I guess, no thanks to you and Lestrade, I had a bit more alcohol than I could handle."

"A bit?" scoffed Sherlock.

"And I vaguely remember being in a car. Or was it a roller coaster? And Mycroft was here." Addie said.

"Oh…anything else? Like being upset about anything?" John asked.

"Not really. But I imagine I was a bit upset given the fact that I threw up everywhere and pissed myself."

"Right. Right, yeah," John said. "So no weird dreams or anything?"

Addie stopped cold, mug half-way to her lips, and sat frozen and wide-eyed. She turned to look at John.

"Wh…what? What do you mean?" she asked in a panic.

"You're subtlety is impressive John," Sherlock snarked.

"It's just…well you had a few…nightmares last night when you were still drunk…and they sounded…they sounded horrible." John stammered nervously.

Addie was silent and staring into the contents of her mug. Her eyes were shifting nervously and she was breathing funny.

"Did I…uh…say anything…significant?" she asked.

"No. Not really. Just a lot of, um, begging, pleading, yelling. And such," John answered. "Do you…you know…want to, er, talk about it?"

Addie's face was white and she looked ready to be sick again. Then suddenly she schooled her features and appeared normal and unfazed. "Thanks for the offer John, but I can assure you, I am just fine," she smiled tightly at him.

"Oh alright. Just wondering. Because, you know, I'm always here…me and Sherlock, are always here to talk…if you want," John said.

"I'm fine John, really."

"Yeah, ok. Just you seemed really upset and scared, so I thought I'd offer-"

"I said I'm FINE!" Addie yelled and cut him off.

John sat speechless and Sherlock actually looked up from his microscope at her outburst. She was heaving in deep breaths and her hands were shaking. She slowly rose from her chair and walked out of the room without another word. They could hear her footsteps down the hall and her door slam shut.

John let out a breath and put his head in his hands.

"That went well," Sherlock said.

John leveled him with a glare, "Shut up Sherlock!"

Sherlock went back to his microscope without another word.

"I feel like I should go apologize or something," John said.

"Don't. It will just make things worse," Sherlock replied.

John decided to heed Sherlock's advice and finished his breakfast silently before going to update his blog.

All was strangely quiet at 221B for a few hours with each occupant lost in their own worlds. Only when Sherlock and Addie got a text from Lestrade, did they come together again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey all! Hope you are all enjoying the story so far :) I can't believe I'm at Chapter 11 already! On Thursday I'll be going to England for two weeks, so I won't be updating at all until I get back. I hope this chapter can hold you over until I return, lol. As always, thanks for all the support and love. Here's Chapter 11...**

* * *

Chapter 11

The cab ride to the crime scene was the very definition of awkward tension. John tried apologizing many times and each time all he got was silence and a raised eyebrow. Sherlock left them to their tedious feud and took to assuming his 'thinking pose' with his hands pressed together under his chin.

Mercifully they pulled up to the scene and John let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. They surveyed the scene then found Lestrade to get the details.

"Ah, Lestrade, you're looking mighty chipper today," Sherlock said. "Had a good morning?"

Lestrade fought the urge to flip Sherlock off. "It was…well I've had better. I'm sure John here knows what I mean."

John scratched behind his head and looked embarrassed.

"And I'm sure none of us had as good of a morning as Addie here. Right?" Lestrade smirked.

"Piss off," Addie said glaring at him.

"Funny choice of words there. Got your brother's email. Costing me quite a bit to clean his car," Lestrade said.

"Bet you're regretting your free drink offer now," Sherlock said.

"Aye, not a good choice on my part. Especially with this one coming along," he said gesturing to Addie. "Did you really wet yourself?"

"Can we just let it die already?" Addie said.

"I mean, I would have thought, as a Holmes, you'd be able to hold your liquor, know your limits. Probably did some kind of experiment with it at one point."

"Hard to know one's limits when you've never had more than a sip of wine in your life," Sherlock replied.

"Good lord! Really? It's a wonder we didn't kill you! Well this changes things now. I tip my hat to you Adelaide Holmes, for being alive after what would have killed someone else of your size and tolerance," Lestrade praised.

"Don't go encouraging bad habits Lestrade," Sherlock said annoyed.

"Can we just get to the case please? Some of us didn't come here to discuss last night," John spoke up.

They all shut up after that and listened to Lestrade brief them on the case.

This case was a hard one. Not because it was difficult per se, but because of the circumstances of it. It hit eerily close to home for Addie and she had to work extra hard to conceal her emotions, which was proving difficult with her still-not-recovered hung over mind.

The victim was a young girl about 17, recently accepted to a nice university, looking to study medicine and one day become a doctor. Now though she was dead and beaten up, her young life squashed along with her innocence and dreams.

She had her whole life ahead of her and instead she was cold and lifeless, leaving nothing behind but a few school books and stifled potential.

As they were filled in on the specifics of what must have been an extremely violent death, it took everything Addie had not to run from the room and never look back. John shot her a funny look when she visibly recoiled at seeing the body.

Sherlock was already off on his deductions, talking about her hobbies based on her clothing and how she worked at the local fish and chips restaurant because of the chip and oil remnants on her fingers.

"Anything to add?" she heard a voice say next to her.

Sherlock was giving her a calculating look and a raised eyebrow. Addie shook herself out of her trance and cleared her throat a few times.

"Umm, she was planning on attending medical school and training to be a doctor. She was…young…innocent, and no doubt ambitious to take on such a career. Willing to make sacrifices…even if it meant putting her life on hold a bit," Addie said seemingly lost in thought. "She could have been great. Guess we'll never know now, will we?"

All three men were looking at her strangely and their puzzled and…sympathetic expressions were unnerving. She straightened with dignity and poise before moving on.

"She also had a jealous ex-boyfriend who no doubt had easy access to her house and her window. I'd start with him," she said.

They were still looking at her when she finished her deduction and she just couldn't take their intense staring any longer. The room was suddenly stifling and the sight of the beaten and bruised girl was making her sick.

She muttered, "Excuse me," before taking her leave as quickly as possible. She nearly ran to the street before she threw up what little she'd eaten that day. She sunk down against the brick wall next to the house breathing heavily and sweating profusely. She wiped her eyes, using the excuse that it was the sweat that got into them, and worked on slowing her erratic heartbeat.

Ten minutes later John, Lestrade, and Sherlock walked out of the house and over to her. By now she was completely composed and stoic besides looking a touch paler and more tired.

"You alright? Look like you saw a ghost in there," Lestrade commented.

In a way, Addie thought, she had, and it scared her more than anything. "Yeah, I'm good. Apparently not over this damn hang-over yet. Still a bit queasy I guess," she lied easily and jokingly.

Lestrade didn't look too convinced but he accepted her excuse anyways. "Well, head on home then. You and Sherlock do your little detective things and give me a ring when you think you're on to something. And you two," he pointed to John and Sherlock, "Make sure she sleeps it off. We need her on all cylinders for the rest of this case." Lestrade bid his goodbyes and walked back in the house.

John wasn't in the least bit convinced by her little story but he learned his lesson about prodding her. He chose silence over being yelled at again.

Sherlock was the most aware of any of them about Addie and what had happened to her at the murder scene. The implications of her reaction and the look he saw in her eyes gave him chills and scared him. Sherlock Holmes never gets scared. Except when it involves those he cares about. Yes, ok. He does care about people. Despite his ramblings about being a sociopath and lacking sentiment, he does have feelings and affections when it comes to those close to him. He, while it seems an impossible feat for him, loves Addie and cares for her deeply. He cares about John, and Mrs. Hudson, and yes even stupid Mycroft. Sherlock has always been aware of these human feelings and emotions and he's always tried to appear as if he was above such things, but he could never, as hard as he tried, get rid of them. It was easier to appear stoic and unattached than attempt to show his affections and express his feelings.

He never was good at comforting or expressing his sympathies. So when Addie stumbled while taking a step, he used that as an opportunity to brace her with his hand and give her shoulder a light squeeze, hoping she'd catch on to his subtle and sorry excuse for comfort.

Addie caught his eye and the corner of her mouth twitched up in a small smile as she let him lead her to the cab.

* * *

Hours later they sat in the living room thinking over the case, reading books, checking the evidence, looking over the victim's possessions, and brainstorming.

Addie was holding an anatomy textbook in her hands, leafing through it for the 3rd time and still coming up with nothing.

She was thinking back to her argument with John and feeling guilty about how she reacted. John was just trying to help and he genuinely wanted her to feel better and get it off her chest. She felt she should apologize but apologizing was never really her thing. Thanks to Mycroft and Sherlock for that little detail. She supposed the next best thing to saying sorry for her behavior was to explain it.

"You know when you asked if I wanted to talk?" she began, looking towards John.

John looked up, surprised that she was speaking to him after giving him the silent treatment all day.

"Well, truth is, I don't want to talk about it…or rather, I can't," she said, taking note of Sherlock listening in from his seat at the computer. "I can't talk about it. Not yet. But I'm not going to pretend I'm alright. Because I'm not."

John was still listening and turned to face her and look her in the eyes, giving her his full attention.

"I'm not ok, and I'm not over it. Not in the slightest. But it's something I need to come to terms with myself before I talk about it. I need to figure it out on my own before letting anyone else in. Does that make sense?"

John nodded. "Yes. However, sometimes other people can help you come to terms with certain things. They can act as a healing agent and a support in a lonely and vulnerable place," he said.

"I've never really needed people," she said scoffing and looking away. "I'm just fine on my own. Alone. Alone protects me. Right, Sherlock?"

Sherlock looked thoughtful before going back to facing the laptop screen.

"Now we both know that's not true. I think you need people more than you think you do. In fact, I'd say the thing you need the most is people. People to come alongside you and listen. People to support and be there for you when you need them," John said. "And I can be one of those people. Perhaps the best person. The only one who truly understands."

Addie looked terrified and uncomfortable. But John could see the hope and the gratitude in her eyes as she glanced back down at the worn textbook.

"I just need time," Addie replied.

And there it was. As good of an apology, a thank you, and a 'please help me' as he was going to get from Addie Holmes. He nodded and looked her in the eyes, conveying as much as he possibly could in one look. A look that said 'I'll be here when you're ready,' and 'you're not alone.'

Addie's small smile and misty eyes were all it took for everything to be settled between them. All was forgiven and forgotten and all that remained was a mutual respect and understanding.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello all! I am back from my trip and ready to get back into posting! Yaaay! I had a wonderful time in Joll Ol' England, so thanks for asking, lol. As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, following, favoriting, etc..Here is Chapter 12: less angst, more character exploration. Enjoy! :)**

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Chapter 12 

Addie's excitement over the past few hours eventually got to her and she took to researching on the couch. She was laying on her stomach with a book open and a pad of paper in her hand jotting down notes as she read.

Every now and then her head would bob down, nearly hitting the book before she would snap it back up and blink harshly.

Sherlock watched her in her struggle to stay awake and rolled his eyes. Usually he would be worried about how much she was sleeping since she's never really needed much of it. But he reasoned that she had been through a lot these past few weeks and he can't fault her for being utterly exhausted. She held out reasonably well, actually. Any normal person would have probably collapsed a long time ago.

Addie was now reading with her head resting on her arm, pen still in the other hand writing a few words here and there. Her eyes closed for longer periods before she blinked them open quickly. Soon her head lolled to the side and came to rest on the open book. Her breathing evened out and her eyes stayed closed. Her mouth was opened slightly and small breaths were coming out. The pen in her hand slipped out and rolled to the floor.

John walked into the room holding a plate and a cup of tea. "Sherlock, Addie, I made some dinner if you want some," he said setting his plate down.

Sherlock looked up from watching Addie when John entered.

"Dinner?" John asked.

Sherlock nodded and folded up his paper.

"Addie, how about you, are you-" John paused seeing her asleep on the couch. "Oh, finally! I thought she'd never fall asleep. Thought I'd have to make her another cup of tea."

Sherlock looked at him in shock. "You…you drugged her?"

"I wouldn't say drugged really," John smirked. "I merely helped her along. A simple and mild narcotic added to the tea and she wouldn't be able to stop the inevitable. Don't worry; it has no addictive properties whatsoever."

Sherlock looked impressed and laughed out loud. "You actually pulled one over on Addie. She must have been really out of it to not notice something was wrong with her tea. You're going to be in trouble when she finds out."

"That's why she won't be finding out. As far as she knows she fell asleep reading on the couch," he gave Sherlock a pointed look.

Sherlock huffed and walked over to the couch. He picked up the pen and removed the notepad from Addie's limp fingers. He laid them on the table then moved to grab the book her head was resting on. He removed it gently out from under her and she stirred slightly. He carefully swapped the book for a pillow and Addie burrowed into it, wrapping her arms around it. He moved the rest of the book out with expert ease and put in on the table next to her notes.

John watched as Sherlock gently laid a blanket over her and he smiled fondly. Before Addie came along, it was rare for John to see Sherlock show any gentleness or care for anyone but himself. In fact, John often thought that Sherlock was incapable of any kind of emotion or sentiment, but in that moment, as he watched Sherlock's hand hover over Addie's head, he found himself doubting that fact.

Sherlock turned from the couch and John quickly looked the other way so he wouldn't think he was watching them. They sat at the table and John passed a plate of food to Sherlock. They sat in comfortable silence for a bit.

John decided to speak up about something he'd been thinking since Addie arrived. "She seems…different from you and Mycroft," he said.

"Hmmm," Sherlock replied.

"I just mean she's, well, more…"

"Human?" Sherlock interjected.

"Normal," John finished.

Sherlock remained quiet and looked at John expectantly, signaling him to elaborate.

"I mean, no doubt she's brilliant. But she's…more in touch with her emotions and the real world," John said. "I mean, not to say that you and Mycroft aren't normal…umm, you're just…uh, not as normal as most people…and…"

"Just stop John, you're not making it any better," Sherlock snarked. "What's that phrase? Quit while you're behind?" He smirked.

"Sorry, this isn't going the way I planned," John apologized, looking embarrassed.

"It's alright. I understand what you're saying," Sherlock said. "Addie's always been…different than us. Not in a bad way of course; just different. It could be because she's female, which gives her less control of her emotions. Females are the weaker sex, there's no denying it. But only when it comes to control over their feelings and sentiments. Women are actually, in fact, much stronger than men in many other regards. And well, Addie is strong. Stronger than Mycroft and stronger than me. Her strength is simply exhibited in different ways."

John nodded. "That makes sense."

"She takes after mummy in that regard. She's terribly dramatic and sentimental. We're always telling her that her compassion will get her in trouble someday. When she was younger it was extremely frustrating. We had little patience for her emotional outbursts and dramatic behavior. It wasn't until later we realized that we could learn from her."

"As you might have seen, Addie's the only one who has an effect on Mycroft and my emotions and it almost drives us insane sometimes. Mycroft told me once that Addie was turning him into a sentimental fool, but that he never regretted it for one second. You see, Addie's talent lies, not in trying to appear superhuman and unattached, but in revealing that she's not. That's why people trust her so much. She's real and she's human and she convinces people to be the same."

John nodded. "She's certainly easy to trust and it's easy to be fond of her so quickly. I've fallen victim to her spell also," John laughed. "Just one thing though. If her talent is revealing that she's human. Why does she try to convince us she's not? She gets strangers to talk by showing them compassion, but when it comes to people she knows, she pretends she has none."

"Ahh, now you've hit the nail on the head. The Holmeses have always been talented actors," Sherlock winked. "Addie's simply trying to be more like us. Mycroft and I have perfected the art of not caring-"

"Or rather, pretending you don't," John interrupted.

Sherlock scowled at him. "She does it to protect herself. We've all been hurt and shunned. Growing up wasn't exactly…easy and pleasant for us. I guess Addie eventually caught on to the fact that emotions and caring were not an advantage, and especially around those she was close to, it was better to guard herself."

Sherlock looked more worn out after his explanation and lowered his eyes to his cup. "It's something we wished we'd never taught her. How to close yourself off. Something we wished she'd never have to use."

"She doesn't seem to put it up around you though. Well, not much anyways," John said.

"I suppose she trusts me. I've somehow earned it."

"Can't imagine how. You're a prat at the best of times," John teased.

Sherlock chuckled and looked over to his little sister still sleeping on the couch. His smile disappeared as he watched her, but he was as easy to see through as a brick wall. John wished he had access to Sherlock's mind sometimes to see what he was too stubborn to reveal to anyone else.

"You were scared today, weren't you?" John asked.

Sherlock didn't acknowledge him or even spare him a glance.

"You were scared because of her reaction to the case," John finished.

Sherlock was still looking away from him. "My tea's gone cold, John," he said offering his cup.

"You worry about her. You won't show it but you do. I know you do."

Silence. No trying to deny it but no agreement either. Simply neutral. How very Sherlock.

"You worry about her as Mycroft worries about you," John said.

Sherlock scoffed. "Mycroft doesn't worry about me. He doesn't worry about anything other than keeping his position of power and preserving his reputation."

John rolled his eyes and chuckled, "You know, for being completely brilliant, you Holmeses are incredibly dense."

Sherlock turned sharply to stare at John with an incredulous and affronted look on his face.

"You may have everyone else convinced you don't care for each other, or even care about anything at all, but you don't have me fooled. I know you care about them. _Both_ of them. And they care about you."

Sherlock focused on a spot on the wall behind John's head. "Yes, well, don't tell them. It would completely ruin our relationship."

"You are so weird," John said and shook his head.

"Did you expect anything more?" Sherlock smirked.

"No. Not at all." John laughed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey readers! If you're still out there, here's Chapter 13! Little bit of a shorter chapter, but it is definitely more humorous and a wayyy different tone than the last few ones. Hopefully that appeals to you :) We find out how Sherlock reacts when Addie meets a guy ;)**

* * *

Chapter 13

"That's your brother isn't it?" the young man said as he approached Addie.

She looked up, startled and looked in the direction he nodded. She was slightly dazed when he addressed her, being an attractive man with blonde hair and gorgeous eyes. Addie found herself slightly melting when he leaned against the wall next to her.

"Yeah," she answered, looking flushed.

"The other agents say he's a bit of a prat," the man said.

Addie chuckled and turned to face him. "He is actually. A major prat."

"So does that make you a prat too? Since he's your brother? Guilty by association?"

"I hardly think it fair to inflict upon me the less desirable traits of my siblings," she smiled. "I happen to be the golden child. I'm never a prat," she said haughtily.

"No, I don't imagine you are," the man smiled back. "Agent Reynolds," he said offering his hand.

"Detective Holmes," she said shaking his hand.

"Do you have a first name, Detective Holmes?" Reynolds asked.

"Do you, Agent Reynolds? Or do you intend for me to address you by your last name whenever we talk next?" Addie replied.

"How do you know I will want to talk again?" he asked.

"Why else would you be over here?" she said raising an eyebrow.

Reynolds smirked, "Tom," he said simply.

"Adelaide," she replied. "Those who have the privilege of getting to know me better call me Addie, but that name is reserved for a select few."

"Well then, I hope to have that privilege someday, Adelaide," he smiled at her suggestively.

"As do I, Tom," she said returning his suggestive smile.

"So, what's he really like? Give me the inside scoop about the famous Sherlock Holmes," Tom said.

"I'm afraid I can't disclose such information. Sibling loyalty. It's in the sibling's code of ethics," she told him.

"There's no such code. You're having me on," he laughed.

Addie chuckled. "No, I swear. It's all online. You should do your research."

She was trying and failing to hold in her laugh as she watched him start to contemplate such a book and where he might find it. She laughed out loud when he started writing it down on his notepad to look up later.

Tom looked to her and scowled playfully. "You're a liar."

"Yes, yes, I know. No such code exists. I lied. I'm terribly sorry," she said, not looking in the least bit apologetic.

"No, not about that," he said.

"Then what do you mean?"

"About you not being a prat," he smirked. "Seems it does run in the family."

"I'm allowed to be wrong," she told him and smirked back.

Sherlock was watching the pair from across the room, taking in their body language and their constant smirks and teasing gestures.

"Is it standard procedure for an agent to talk so much with one of the detectives?" Sherlock asked.

Addie was now laughing and blushing as she talked to the younger agent. Sherlock watched them suspiciously with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw.

John looked up from his notes at Sherlock's question. He followed his gaze to the pair giggling and chatting down the hall and he smiled to himself.

"I suppose if there's urgent business to be discussed about the case then yes, it is alright for an agent to be talking so much with a detective." He answered.

"What kind of business about the case could they possibly be giggling about? I'm going to talk to Lestrade about that one. He seems suspicious and far more interested in his outside activities than he is in his job," Sherlock said.

"Come on now Sherlock. Leave the poor kid alone. You can't go ruining his life because he finds Addie attractive," John tried to reason with him.

"And why not?" Sherlock asked with a raised eyebrow. "Did he just touch her?! John! He's touching her!" Sherlock whispered harshly.

"Relax Sherlock, he's shaking her hand," John rolled his eyes.

"Well I don't like the way he held it. It seemed too suggestive for a strictly professional relationship."

"You're paranoid."

"Don't I have reason to be? I've already lost her once, I…" Sherlock trailed off.

John looked guilty and apologized, understanding why Sherlock was a bit too protective of his sister.

Addie approached them with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. She was still blushing and looking dreamy.

"Had a nice chat?" Sherlock asked coldly.

Addie jerked out of her daydream and looked up at them. Her blush was gone and her smile faded. She raised her eyebrow back at him and smirked haughtily, not answering his question.

"He's not nearly at your level of intellect and he's quite frankly, an idiot. He still lives at home with mummy and his biggest accomplishment is winning the office Christmas party award for ugliest jumper. And it wasn't even that horrendous. John has worse in his closet."

John looked offended, "Hey, hang on!"

"I really don't care about your stupid opinions Sherlock. Tom and I are friends. He happens to find me funny and enjoyable to be around and, since I rarely find people like that, I see no harm in continuing to talk to him. Just because you seem to be satisfied with living a solitary life, doesn't mean I do," Addie said, sneering at him.

"Oh, so its Tom is it? On a first name basis already, I see," Sherlock teased.

"Yes, Sherlock. People generally call their friends by their first names," she glanced at him, "Well, most normal people anyways."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and walked off to talk to Lestrade. John was left with an annoyed Addie.

"Look, Addie-"

"Oh don't you start too. I really don't need to be babied and held on a leash. I'm a grown woman for god's sake!"

"I was just going to say that Tom seems nice. And if he makes you happy, by all means continue to talk to him," John said.

Addie smiled gratefully at him.

Sherlock approached Lestrade purposefully.

"Lestrade. I wish to speak to you about one of your agents," Sherlock spoke professionally.

"Hmmm," Lestrade said as he read over a report. "Oh yes, which one?"

Sherlock pointed to the blonde agent collecting evidence across the room. "That one."

Lestrade followed his finger. "Oh, Reynolds. He's a good kid. What about him?"

"It seems Agent Reynolds and my sister have become friendly with each other. I feel it is inappropriate for them to behave in such a manner and to engage in conversation that is not strictly professional and relevant to the case."

"You want me to tell them they can't be friends?" Lestrade asked.

"No of course not. I want you to forbid him to ever talk to her again except for case-related issues lest he be fired and thrown out," Sherlock said.

Lestrade laughed out loud. Sherlock looked insulted and stared at him, shocked. Lestrade clapped his hand on Sherlock's back and shook his head.

"I'm not going to forbid one of my agents to have friends just because you are an overprotective and over-bearing big brother."

Sherlock was genuinely confused as to why Lestrade wasn't agreeing with him. He'd have thought if anyone was a stickler for propriety it would be him.

"I say, good for them. They're young, let them have some fun." Lestrade said as he smirked and walked away.

Sherlock scowled and narrowed his eyes at Reynolds. He'd be keeping a close eye on him from now on.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello everyone! Thanks for the follows and favorites. It's so encouraging to know people out there are enjoying my story :) Here's Chapter 14. Lots of anger and past secrets coming to light. Time for some drama! lol. Hope you enjoy. And if you feel so inclined, leave me a review! :)**

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Chapter 14

"You insufferable arrogant git!" Addie yelled as she walked through the door of the flat.

"Hello, welcome home," Sherlock cheekily replied.

"Tom told me you spoke to Lestrade about him. Lestrade warned him not to piss you off because you're keeping an eye on him!"

"Yes, well, that's quite good advice."

"I can't believe you Sherlock! I can't even have one friend? One person who actually likes me for me? You've got John, so why can't I have Tom?"

"I don't trust him Addie. He seems suspicious," Sherlock answered.

"Oh, so just because you're paranoid, I have to suffer for it?"

Sherlock remained silent.

John walked in having heard the yelling from his room. But really, he was sure everyone on the block could hear the yelling.

"What is going on in here? Could you scream a little louder, I'm not sure everyone in London heard you?"

"John, could you please convince my prat of a brother to stop meddling in my life? It's bad enough Mycroft literally stalks me, but now Sherlock?"

Addie's text alert went off.

_It's not stalking!_

_-MH_

"Oh shut up Mycroft!" she yelled at the phone.

"Now Addie, I know you're upset, but you have to try to see where your brothers are coming from," John said.

"Oh no, not you too! Can't I have anyone on my side?"

"They're just concerned for you. They watch out for you," John explained.

"Well I don't want their concern. I want to be left alone!"

"Fine! Go then. By all means, leave. I'll be sure never to bug you again!" Sherlock yelled.

"Good! I will!"

The shouting was interrupted by a knock at the door. They heard Mrs. Hudson let whoever it was in and soon Lestrade was standing in the doorway with a group of agents.

"What the hell do you want?" Sherlock snapped.

"We're here to find something. Something you have that you shouldn't," Lestrade answered with his arms crossed.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked.

"Let's call it a drugs bust," he said.

"Oh, not again!" John said, exasperated.

"Drugs bust? Again? What's he talking about, Sherlock?" Addie asked.

"I told you, I don't have anything. You cleaned me out last time you were here," Sherlock answered, annoyed and not hearing Addie.

"Cleaned you out? What the hell, Sherlock?" Addie asked. No one seemed interested in her questions though and she never got an answer.

"I don't have any drugs Lestrade! You know that. What are you here for?"

"You took evidence from a crime scene Sherlock," Sherlock opened his mouth but Lestrade cut him off. "Without permission. You can't withhold the evidence from a case."

"Oh come on, you know I can figure this out better than any of these idiots here."

"That's not the point. You can't be doing this. I'm already risking enough letting you come to the scenes. So, knowing you wouldn't otherwise give me what you took, I decided to come get it myself. The drugs bust is just my excuse. However, I will be searching for those too. Just to be safe," Lestrade said.

Lestrade left the living room with his agents and they began to explore the rest of the flat. After a few minutes, they clearly didn't finding anything, quickly left the flat, and headed back to the Yard.

"Sherlock! What the HELL is going on?!" Addie said, having enough of being ignored.

Sherlock's face blanched and his eyes widened. He seemed to forget Addie was in the room with them the whole time. He was so focused on being angry at Lestrade that he forgot they weren't alone.

"Uh…I…" Sherlock was actually at a loss for words. He looked desperately at John but he knew there was nothing John could do about it.

"Addie, I was really stupid when I left home. I…I did things that I regret, and-" Addie cut him off.

"You…you mean to tell me that you actually took drugs? Please tell me it was an experiment."

Sherlock was silent and not looking at her.

"I mean, I know you smoke, which is one thing, but holy shit, Sherlock! Drugs? What kind did you take? Or are you still taking?"

"Cocaine…and maybe a few others," he answered simply.

"Are you…are you still using?" Addie asked, hardly able to bring herself to say the words.

"No. NO! I'm not Addie, I swear. Lestrade cleaned me out a while ago. I'm clean."

Addie was seething and torn between anger and tears. "How…how could you…"

John took that as his opportunity to bow out of the room, recognizing that the siblings needed privacy.

Sherlock looked guiltily at her, "Look Addie, I was stupid. And I was young. I had a hard time in school and, well, they were there, so…"

"This started when you were at university?"

"I was 19. It was an experiment at first. To see how my body reacted. But, well, they don't lie when they say their addictive. I overdosed a number of times. A few dangerous ones that landed me in hospital. Mycroft came round and berated me, then tried to help me, then started meddling to get the stuff away from me."

"So, the whole time it was happening, no one knew except Mycroft?" Addie asked.

"It wasn't something we wanted to advertise to the world. Who was there to tell anyways?" Sherlock answered.

"You could have told me," she said looking hurt.

"You were 12!"

"But I wasn't always 12! I grew up, Sherlock. I would have understood!"

"There was no way Mycroft and I were going to tell you. By the time you were old enough to know, the problem was nearly gone. There was no reason to tell."

Addie was silent and looking at Sherlock with shiny eyes. "You're such a bloody idiot! Someone with your mind should have known better than to experiment in such trivial things. How could you have been so stupid?!"

"I made a mistake!"

"Oh, so Mr. Perfect admits to being wrong! Well, alert the media, this one should make front page!"

"I am human you know. I'm allowed to be wrong," Sherlock said begrudgingly.

"Yes, Sherlock. You are human. And it's about time you came to terms with that. As much as you try to appear above the "dullness" of real life, you're just like everybody else! You're just like every other addict out there. Just sad little junkie! A pathetic freak!"

Sherlock's eyes flashed with rage and he quickly crossed the room until he was mere inches from Addie.

"Don't you DARE call me a freak! You know nothing of the real world. You skipped out on all of it. You ran away like a coward!" he said, seething.

Addie's eyes widened as she grit her teeth and narrowed her eyes. She was deathly silent and the two siblings simply stared at each other for a good minute. Then Addie took her hand and slapped Sherlock clean across the face.

Sherlock was startled and brought a hand to his cheek looking scandalized.

"We'll see who the coward is, Sherlock," she said spitting his name as if it was foul on her tongue. "Because I'm not going to be the one to tell mum. See how brave you are when she finds out," Addie said smugly.

Sherlock gave her a death glare.

"Mummy doesn't know does she? Let's tell her shall we? See what she thinks of her precious little boy when she find out," Addie said.

"Mummy's dead!" Sherlock shouted.

A thick silence hung in the air.

"W…what…" Addie's smug smile slid off her face and she visibly deflated. "W…when?"

"Three years ago. You weren't here."

"But…but…NO!"

"She died without her daughter by her side. She died not knowing you were alive. We buried her without you! While you were off doing god knows what, we were burying our mother! Who's the pathetic one now, Adelaide," he said icily.

Addie's eyes widened and tears were welling up in eyes. Her breathing sped up and she swore her heart broke in two. She quickly ran from the room to her bedroom down the hall, slamming the door and locking it.

Sherlock let out a shaky sigh and collapsed on to his chair. His head was in his hands which were still shaking. He could hear Addie's sobs and he struggled to keep his own emotions in check.

He felt a presence beside him after a few minutes and a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"I assume you heard the whole thing. We were hardly quiet," he said.

The hand tightened.

"You come to tell me off? I'm not in the mood. Leave that for Mycroft. He should be around soon enough."

"Sherlock…" John started, taking a seat across from him. "I'm not going to lay the blame on anyone. You were both pretty nasty. Things were said that neither of you meant and that you regret."

Sherlock continued to hang his head.

"You need to give each other time. Let the dust settle a bit," John said gently.

Sherlock no longer heard Addie's desperate sobs coming from down the hall he assumed she'd fallen asleep. He felt like the lowest of the low. He couldn't get the image of her heart broken and teary eyes out of his mind. He was a completely insensitive prick and there was no trying to deny it. Sure, Addie was scathing and her words had hurt him, but he's the older brother. He's the one who is supposed to set an example and not sink to her level. He scoffed. Look where they are now, a completely devastated younger sister crying herself to sleep in her room, and an overwhelmed big brother at a loss of what to do, sitting uselessly in his chair.

John got up to check on Addie but Sherlock made no move to stop him or follow him. He sat silently staring at the wall.

John suddenly ran back into the room frantically, looking worried and flushed.

"Sherlock! Addie…she…" he gasped, trying to catch his breath. Sherlock's head snapped up and his stomach knotted a bit. The thought of anything happening to her made his heart pound.

"Addie's gone!" John yelled out, barely finishing the words before Sherlock was racing down the hall to her room.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey everyone. Here's chapter 15. Not sure if anyone is still reading this, but I enjoy posting it and I like to beleive that at least someone is enjoying it. Here's Chapter 15. It's a major emotional scene between Sherlock and Addie. Well, Addie's emotional but Sherlock eventually comes around. If you enjoyed it, please feel free to drop me a review. They're good for the writer's soul ;)**

* * *

Chapter 15

Addie's window was open and her curtains were fluttering in the breeze.

"Shit!" Sherlock said as he ran back to the living room to his laptop.

"Mycroft installed GPS on her phone since she has a tendency to run off," Sherlock said as he typed furiously.

He stopped typing and was watching the circular loading icon with impatience. The words "not found" popped up and he let out a frustrated scream.

"Maybe it's turned off?" John suggested.

"No, if she'd turned it off it would still be able to locate her. Mycroft is nothing if not thorough. This kind of GPS has to be manually shut down," Sherlock said, trying the number again.

"You think she disabled it?" John asked.

"I think that's exactly what she did."

Suddenly Sherlock's phone rang and he scrambled to answer it. "Addie?"

It was Mycroft. Sherlock's hopeful face turned weary. "Do you know where she is? You have to have some people trailing her or something, or surely you saw what happened."

"I wasn't aware anything did happen. Anthea informed me you and John were frantic because Addie's missing," Mycroft said.

"She's disabled the GPS," Sherlock said, frustrated.

"Did you expect anything less?" Mycroft chuckled.

"No, but how the hell are we supposed to find her now?"

"I've got people working on it. They should be able to pull something up soon. Now, tell me what happened," Mycroft said.

"I would have thought you already knew. John said the whole of London could hear us," Sherlock said glaring at John.

John rolled his eyes.

"I don't watch your every waking moment Sherlock, despite what you believe," Mycroft answered.

"Wow, that's shocking. You actually have other things to do besides being a pain in the ass?" Sherlock snapped.

"Yes. But unfortunately, you don't dear brother. Perhaps I should talk to John if you insist on being so difficult?"

"No, don't ask John. He'd get it wrong," Sherlock said. John looked offended and opened his mouth to reply.

"Fine, I'll tell you. You never pass up an opportunity to berate me, so why deny you the pleasure now?" Sherlock said.

"Sherlock…" Mycroft said in a warning tone.

"Addie and I had a…disagreement. Lestrade came over on a fake "drugs bust" and unfortunately this sparked a discussion about my past habits. Addie wasn't pleased to say the least. She called me a junkie freak, I called her a pathetic coward," Sherlock said matter-of-factly. "And I also might have let it slip that mother is dead…" Sherlock said quietly.

Mycroft said nothing, just heaved a heavy sigh. Lord, save him from stubborn and hot-tempered younger siblings.

Sherlock spoke up, "Go on then."

"What?" Mycroft asked.

"Go on and tell me off. 'Sherlock, you know better than this.' 'You're the older brother, show some restraint.' 'She's more sensitive, be gentle with her,'" Sherlock mocked in Mycroft's voice.

"Seems as if you've done a fine job of that by yourself, Sherlock," Mycroft answered. "I'm not going to 'tell you off'. You both were wrong and you both deserve to be berated, but that can wait. For now, let's find our sister, hmm."

Sherlock nodded, forgetting he's on the phone and Mycroft can't see him. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Alright."

John looked at him expectantly as he hung up. "Well, what did he say? Has he any idea where she is?

"No. But he's got 'people' working on it. Whatever that means," Sherlock answered.

John ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "It's alright, we'll find her. Just stay calm," he said comfortingly.

"I am. I'm fine," Sherlock said unconvincingly.

"Sherlock…"

"Mycroft's sending a car. We're going out to look for her. John, you'll…will you…"

"Stay here in case she comes back?" John asked. "Of course."

There was a honk. Sherlock gave him a grateful look before racing down the stairs to get in Mycroft's car.

John slumped down on the sofa and prayed Addie would turn up soon and that she'd be alright.

Sherlock and Mycroft didn't speak for a while. Both lost in their own thoughts, looking out opposite windows.

"Any idea where she'd go?" Mycroft asked.

"Not really. Back to her old flat maybe?"

"Possible. It's rented out to someone else though."

"She has a…"special friend" she's made at the Yard. She might have gone to him for comfort," Sherlock said.

"I'll look into it."

"She can't be at the Yard though, Lestrade would have called."

"Right."

"Oh hell, she was upset. She could be halfway to Switzerland by now!"

"Sherlock."

"Nice place to get away, Switzerland. Quiet, little to no conflict, beautiful scenery-"

"Sherlock…"

"Great place to relax. Unless of course you're plotting revenge on your brother, but either way it's a nice place to be. It's-"

"Sherlock!" Mycroft yelled.

"What?"

Mycroft held up his phone. "I've got a location."

Sherlock sat up straighter and got closer to the phone to see for himself. He grabbed it from his brother.

The text simply said: cemetery.

Sherlock sighed and sat back in the seat. Mycroft took back his phone.

"I should have known." Sherlock said putting his head in his hands. "I don't know if I can do this My." He said, using his childhood nickname for his older brother.

"Don't doubt yourself. You don't need to put on a performance, just be her big brother. That's what she needs most," Mycroft said, putting his hand on Sherlock's knee.

The car pulled up to the cemetery and slowed to a stop. Sherlock looked desperately at Mycroft.

"You're not going to come? You're better at this stuff than I am," Sherlock said, begging his brother to help him out.

"No, Sherlock," Mycroft said gently. "This is between you two. I can't interfere. It would be unfair. I'll be waiting in the car for you both when you're finished."

Sherlock sighed and nodded. He stepped out of the car, and straightened himself. He could see her across the way, facing their mother's grave. She was hugging her knees to her chest and resting her head on them.

He steeled himself for whatever may come from this little reunion. As he drew closer he realized she was talking out loud. He stood behind a tree and listened closely.

"…and I couldn't tell you. I swear! I made a promise and there was no getting out of it. If there was a way mummy, I would have…" he voice broke off a she choked back a sob. "But what good does it do now? You're gone and I never got to say goodbye. I never got to tell you how much…how much I love you. And you died thinking I didn't care. But mummy…I did care. I cared more than anyone can understand. That's why I never came back. I cared too much. I…I'm…I'm sorry mum. I'm so s-s-sorry!" Addie sobbed into her knees.

Sherlock watched her pour out her heart to their mother's grave and his chest clenched. He finally stepped out from behind the tree and carefully made his way to her.

"That didn't take long. I assume Mycroft had a hand in this too," she spoke up, her voice shaky.

Sherlock didn't answer. He just stood there awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do.

"Just go away Sherlock. I'll be home later. I promise I won't be a _coward_ and slip off again," she sniffed.

Sherlock flinched at her words and felt the heavy guilt settle in his stomach again.

"Addie, I…"

"You don't need to apologize, Sherlock. You were just telling the truth. There's no fault in that," Addie said looking at the ground.

Sherlock approached her and brought his hand to rest on her head. It was a little awkward, but, curled up in a ball and sitting on the ground, Addie was too far down for him to reach her shoulder.

Addie stiffened but she didn't shake his hand off. "How'd it happen? How did she…" she couldn't bring herself to say any more.

"Pneumonia. Usually it's not fatal, but mum had been in a bad way for a while. Her immunities were down and she couldn't fight it," he answered.

Addie curled farther into herself and Sherlock was forced to remove his hand. "I should have been there. I should have told her I loved her. Maybe she wouldn't have died thinking I never cared."

Sherlock was still unsure of himself and his ability to comfort her, thinking he might be in over his head a bit.

Despite his doubts, he lowered himself to crouch down beside her. "Addie, I was wrong when I told you that. Mum knew. She knew how you felt. She never resented you and she never doubted you loved her," he said, finally able to bring his hand to her shoulder and squeeze it comfortingly. "So don't you ever think she died without knowing; don't ever think that."

Addie looked up at him, her blue eyes puffy and red. Sherlock gave her a sincere smile of reassurance and Addie's face crumbled as she launched herself at him. He let out a little grunt of surprise as he struggled to stay upright. He ended up sitting on the hard ground next to the grave with Addie clinging to him and clenching his coat in her hands.

She was crying loudly now, no longer trying to be quiet and appear strong. She was muttering things he couldn't quite make out. He thought he heard an "I'm sorry," and maybe a "forgive me," but he couldn't be sure.

Sherlock sat there stunned a bit at her burst of affection. In the five years she'd been gone he'd forgotten how to really comfort her. He'd been so worried about doing it right and looking confident. He wanted to comfort her the way most people comforted one another, but in that moment, with her wrapped around his waist, he realized that wasn't what she needed. Mycroft was right; sod him. Addie didn't care if he was doing it the right way or not. She just needed him. She just needed her big brother to make her feel better in only the way he can. If that meant awkward hugs and hesitant words, then so be it.

He allowed his defenses and his façade to slip and he focused on the most important thing at the moment; making his baby sister feel better. He cradled her in his arms and drew her closer to him.

"Shhhh, it's alright Addie. It's ok. I'm here," he said as he ran his fingers through her hair. "We'll get through this. You'll be alright."

"I w-w-want mum-m-my!" she cried. "I don't care if I sound childish! I want mummy!"

Sherlock sniffed to hold in his own emotions. "I know, love, I know," he whispered, rubbing her back and giving her a kiss on her head.

Slowly Addie began to calm down. Her sobs quieted, reduced to sniffles and hiccups. She loosed her grip on Sherlock and brought her head to rest on his shoulder.

"I wanna go home now. Can we go home, Sherlock?" she asked in in a hoarse voice.

"Of course, come on then," he said pulling her to her feet. He brought his arm to rest around her shoulders as he guided her to the car.

The car ride was silent with Addie curled up on Sherlock's lap, but her right hand firmly holding Mycroft's. She didn't sleep or close her eyes. She simply stared ahead and took comfort in being with her brothers.

She knew this wouldn't be the first shock she'd get now that she was back. Addie guaranteed herself that there would be many more harsh realities to come. Maybe Sherlock was partly right when he said she had skipped out on it and hid away because she was afraid. She had been afraid and she let that fear rule her. Now she knew why. The real world was confusing, terrifying, and frustrating, and she knew she'd need her brothers more than ever. All she had to do was let them be there for her, to let those who care for her in. John was right. She needed people more than she thought she needed them. She couldn't do it on her own, and she didn't want to.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks so much for the reviews and favorite/follows! Always encouraging to see people reading and enjoying. Here's Chapter 16. We get some Mycroft and Addie interaction because I feel like their relationship has been a bit underplayed. Hope you enjoy this brother/sister scene :)**

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Chapter 16

They had planned to go back to Baker Street but Addie was reluctant to let either of her brothers go. Mycroft suggested they go to his flat for the night since it was closer and there was room enough for all of them. The brothers hoped Addie would go to sleep, seeing as it was an emotionally exhausting day, but that wasn't the case.

Both brothers would have preferred her to sleep than to sit still staring at a wall expressionless all night. They both knew that everyone deals with grief differently and they too had gone through their stages much in the same way, but that didn't make it easier to watch. They vowed to sit with her in her time of need, but Sherlock, being Sherlock, got bored and took his leave to explore Mycroft's flat. Not that he was insensitive and uncaring, but because of his inability to sit still and process things like most people. Neither Mycroft nor Addie faulted him for that. So, Mycroft remained in the room acting as a silent support system as he perused the headline of the newspaper. He recognized when Addie shifted and brought her hand up to rub her eyes.

"My..?" she asked quietly.

Mycroft brought his eyes up to look at her expectantly.

"Do you…do you think…did I kill mum?"

Mycroft looked surprised but he guessed he should have expected this question sooner or later. He knew her tendency to blame herself for everything.

"Why would you think that?" he asked.

"It's just…I can't help thinking that…if I hadn't "died" she would have been stronger. She could have fought the pneumonia and she'd still be here," Addie said.

Mycroft wasn't sure what to say to that. There was some truth in her statement. Yes, their mother would have been stronger had Addie's "death" not happened, but there was no guarantee that her body would have fought off the disease any better.

"I doubt it Addie. Mummy was sick. She was old, and these things happen. There was no promise she would have gotten better. With or without you being alive and around," Mycroft reassured her.

Addie didn't answer and simply went back to staring at the wall.

"Did she, uh, say anything before she died? You know, about…?" Addie trailed off.

"If you mean did she say anything about you before she died, then yes. She never shut up about you. Went on and on about how proud she was of her baby girl and how special you were. Sherlock and I became quite frustrated at how you still managed to be the favorite even when you weren't alive anymore," Mycroft said.

Addie gave a wet chuckle and wiped her eyes again. "Yes, well, that is the benefit of being the baby, and the only girl. Plus I was always more well behaved," she teased.

"Don't you start you cheeky brat," Mycroft smirked.

Addie smirked back at him then focused on her hands in her lap. Mycroft, seeing her mood start to turn gloomy again, decided to try to help a bit.

"You know," he began. "I have something for you. Something I never thought I'd have the chance to give you."

Addie looked intrigued. Mycroft set down his paper and moved over to his desk drawers and started rummaging through them. He finally pulled out a small wooden box ornately decorated and looking extremely old. He brought it over to the couch and sat down beside her. Addie looked apprehensive and unsure so Mycroft held the box out and gave her a comforting look.

Addie took it carefully and ran her fingers over the lid. It looked almost antique and it was definitely well worn. Used by multiple owners, and quite frequently if the broken clasp on the front was anything to go by. The clasp was also glued on, meaning it was valuable to its owners, enough so that they would work to keep it functioning. There was also a small smudge of nail polish stained on the lid which-

Her deductions were cut off. "Addie, stop deducing it and open the box. I'm sure you'll find what's inside much more interesting," Mycroft spoke softly next to her.

She opened to box, which she observed to be a jewelry box, and saw a locket attached to a gold chain. The locket, like the box, was very old and worn, and also intricately designed, dating it back even further; possibly an heirloom.

Addie turned it over in her hands and started to examine it. She tried not to deduce it, knowing Mycroft would catch on, but she couldn't exactly turn it on and off. There was an inscription on the back that she recognized as the Holmes family motto: "trust, but in whom take care." What a suitable family motto. Trust few, if anyone at all.

She finally decided to open it instead of analyzing it to death. When she popped it open a small piece of folded paper fell out onto her lap. She set the locket aside and reached for the paper, carefully unfolding it. Her eyes widened when she saw a list of names dating back to the early 1800s all ending in the name "Holmes." The locket was definitely an heirloom and clearly belonged to many of her ancestors and relatives.

"It's been in the family for centuries, as I'm sure you've observed," Mycroft said. "This locket has been owned by nearly every female Holmes since it came into our dear ancestor Wilfreda Holmes' possession. She passed it on to the next living female Holmes, who in turn passed it on to the next, and so on and so forth, until it came to be in your hands right now."

Addie scanned the list, most people she'd never heard of, or only heard in passing from boring old stories she'd been forced to listen to as a child when her father thought she needed a better reminder of where she came from and what her purpose was in life. She recognized the names of her great-grandmother and her grandmother, then her breath caught in her throat and her vision blurred when she saw her mother's name neatly printed at the bottom of the paper. She ran her fingers over it fondly and smiled to herself.

"It's yours now, little sister. Mother planned to give it to you when she passed. She never expected…well none of us really expected, that you'd be the one to pass first. She gave it to me in hopes that I would keep it safe. She said it would belong to nobody if it didn't belong to you," Mycroft told her.

Addie's eyes were teary as she looked at her mother's neat handwriting once again. She picked up the locket and looked it over. The Holmes family crest was printed on the inside and the name "Holmes" was written opposite, where the paper had fallen from. She cupped the locket in her hands and clutched it to her chest, hoping to feel any ounce of her mother that might still be residing within it. Just the idea that her mother owned it made her feel more connected to her. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall as she ran her hands over it repeatedly.

Mycroft spoke softly next to her and moved closer so his arm was touching hers, offering her the physical comfort he knew she needed. "All that's left is to add your own name. Then it will officially be yours."

Addie laid her head on Mycroft's shoulder as her tears fell freely once again. He brought his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. It was his turn to be the big brother now.

"I miss her terribly, Mykie. I shouldn't have stayed away so long. But, I had to…but I should have at least…I just wish none of this had ever happened! Maybe if I'd never "died" she'd still be here today and given me this locket herself."

"There's no point focusing on the past. It will only bring heartbreak and anger. There was nothing anyone could have or should have done. It happened and now we must move on and keep our spirits up," Mycroft said. "What would mummy say if she were here now looking at our glum faces?"

Addie smiled and chuckled, "She'd say we look like lost puppies wallowing in the rain. Then she'd tell us to think of something cheerful to bring our spirits up."

"Right you are, dear. Spot on," Mycroft smiled at her. "So then, what is it?"

"What is what?" Addie asked.

"What's the cheerful thought you'd bring to mind?" Mycroft asked.

"Well, the most current one would have to be the day I came back. When we were all reunited in your office."

"When you were furiously yelling and cursing at us? I wouldn't have thought that a very nice moment at all," Mycroft replied.

"Yeah, that's true. But we were together. And we were family again. The bickering just made it more realistic that it truly was a Holmes family moment." They both laughed at that.

"What about you Mykie? What's your cheerful thought?" Addie asked.

"Sherlock wanting to be a pirate when he was four. Then him resigning his post after he poked himself in the eye with his toy sword and realized that being on a ship all day and night would drive him insane."

Addie laughed out loud at the image of four-year-old Sherlock waving around a pirate sword then attempting to sit still in a "ship" for longer than 10 minutes. "Isn't that a bit sadistic? Getting your good memory from Sherlock's pain and failure?" she teased.

"I don't see how it's any different than getting your happy memory from yelling and cursing your brothers," Mycroft replied cheekily.

"Touché, big brother," she smiled.

"Besides," Mycroft said. "It was one of the rare times he indulged in childhood fantasies and playing pretend. Even if it didn't last long, it was still there."

Addie smiled slyly and gave him a sideways glance. "Getting sentimental in your old age, huh?"

"Oh shut up you!" Mycroft teased.

Addie suddenly found a pen in her hand and the paper from the locket in her lap. She looked up at Mycroft and he gave her an encouraging smile.

She wrote neatly and carefully under her mother's; the name _Adelaide Holmes_ now added amongst the great women of their family. It was officially hers and she'd wear it with pride.

Mycroft took the locket from her and put it around her neck. It settled like a familiar weight against her chest and right over her heart where it belonged, a little piece of her mother to carry around with her always.

"It suits you perfectly, love," Mycroft said softly as he kissed her forehead and went to go make tea.


	17. Chapter 17

** Sorry it's been a while. I didn't want to post this until I'd written more of this story. Trying to discipline myself into writing more often. Anyhoo, enough talk. On to Chapter 17!**

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Chapter 17

Eventually Addie fell asleep on the couch still clutching the locket as if it were a lifeline. Mycroft, who returned to the room to give Addie her tea, smiled fondly and tucked the blanket from his armchair around her. She looked so peaceful. All the pain, sadness, and self-blame was gone from her face, replaced with calm and relaxed features. Mycroft wished more than anything that she could have her innocence back, but he knew she'd get through this like she always does, with poise and immense strength. He found a pillow and slipped it gently under her before running a hand over her head and whispering, "Sleep well, sweetheart."

He then went into his study to answer some emails and go over some documents he'd been neglecting until he could ensure Addie was alright.

He was halfway through reading one of his top secret files that no one but a select few were allowed to see, when a knock came at his door. He looked up.

"Come in," he said.

Sherlock's head peeked in, "Where's Addie? Is she alright?" Mycroft noted the dark circles under Sherlock's eyes and slightest hint of exhaustion creeping into his voice.

"She's alright. She's sleeping in the living room. Don't disturb her," he warned.

"I'm not going to disturb her. Not now that she's finally asleep. She needed to be asleep 3 hours ago," Sherlock replied.

"You look a bit tired yourself, Sherlock. You should get some sleep too," Mycroft suggested.

Sherlock scoffed and muttered something about him being ridiculous. Mycroft rolled his eyes and smirked. He should have known it wouldn't work. Fortunately, Mycroft had many years of experience getting a reluctant Sherlock to sleep. His subtle suggestion that Sherlock watch over Addie in the living room in case she has any nightmares was a reasonable suggestion to Sherlock and he agreed. Mycroft smirked. He would give him a half hour before he was passed out as well.

Sherlock sat in Mycroft's armchair watching over his sister and taking note of her puffy eyes and the dried tear tracks on her face. The past few hours had been hell for her, and he was sure the night wouldn't be without its bad dreams, but at least she was able to sleep peacefully for the time being.

Sherlock once again grew very bored since Addie wasn't doing anything and didn't need comforting. He took to reading a boring periodical Mycroft had laying on the table. Soon his eyes grew heavy and he found himself nodding off for entire paragraphs. It was true, he was exhausted, emotionally and physically, but he'd never give Mycroft the satisfaction of being right. So he fought the fight with all he had to stay awake and prove his brother wrong. But Sherlock's body betrayed him and soon enough his eyes shut completely and his breathing evened out, the boring periodical left abandoned on his lap.

Mycroft returned a half hour later to find Sherlock slumped in his armchair deeply asleep. He chuckled and shook his head; he called it earlier. He removed the periodical from Sherlock's lap and stuck some pillows behind his head and back so he wouldn't get any kinks in his neck or have any sore muscles in the morning. Sherlock's coat was hanging on the desk chair and he draped it over him gently.

Once he was assured that both of his siblings were comfortable and safe, he sat in the desk chair to watch over them. He swept his eyes fondly over his stubborn and brilliant younger brother and sister and found his extreme protectiveness rearing its head. They were finally a family once again, something he never dreamed would happen, and he'd be damned if anything threatened to ruin that.

He was startled out of his musings by a whisper from Sherlock.

"Stop staring, Mycroft. It's creepy."

Mycroft laughed and stood up to go retire to his own room for the night. He gave Addie a parting kiss on the head before crossing the room to approach Sherlock. Sherlock had closed his eyes again and settled back into the pillows. He gave Sherlock a gentle pat on the shoulder before walking towards the hallway.

"Sleep well, brother," he faintly whispered. All he received in return was a half-hearted groan of annoyance. But as he turned to look back at his siblings one last time, he swore he caught a slight upturn of a smile on Sherlock's face before it disappeared and he relaxed back into sleep. Right then he made a vow to his now departed mother to make his position as the oldest the most important thing and to watch over his younger siblings no matter the cost. He owed her that.

* * *

Sherlock and Mycroft slept well into the late morning, being just as tired, if not more, than Addie from the events of the previous day. They woke up to folded blankets on the couch and a handwritten note placed on top of them.

_Lockie and My,_

_Going out for a bit. Need to clear my head and get some air. I'm fine. Don't worry!_

_-Addie_

"You know, this whole running off thing, that's something I didn't miss when she was gone," Sherlock said with a sigh.

"Well, she does like to be dramatic," Mycroft said, chuckling.

"Yes, dramatic and stressful," Sherlock replied.

"Now you know how I feel every time you run right into trouble," Mycroft said.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and ignored him as he searched through Mycroft's cabinets. "I'm taking your last scone."

"Sherlock!"

Sherlock bit into it and smiled.

"Well, we can always track her and see where she's at," Mycroft said.

"She left her phone here," Sherlock said, gesturing to the coffee table beside the couch.

"Of course she did," grumbled Mycroft.

Suddenly, Sherlock's mobile rang, the word "John" coming up on the screen.

"John?"

"Sherlock? Addie's here. Just wanted to let you know. Imagine you were getting a bit worried," John said.

"I wasn't worried," Sherlock said.

"Right," John replied as if he didn't believe him. "Addie and I are going out for some Chinese for lunch. You're welcome to join us, or I can bring something back."

"I'll meet up with you back at the flat. Have a fun lunch date," Sherlock teased, then hung up.

"I do hope John wasn't worried about you two last night when you didn't come home," Mycroft said.

"I texted him when we got here."

"You don't want to join them for lunch?"

"Addie could use a break from family for a bit. Let her and John spend some time together without us."

Mycroft agreed, "Seems reasonable. I guess we can't watch her every move."

"Says the man who installed cameras in our flat," Sherlock said.

Mycroft sneered. "Well, dear brother, seeing as you now have some free time, let's say we discuss a case that has just recently come to my attention?"

Sherlock groaned, but, with lack of anything better to do, reluctantly followed Mycroft out of the kitchen.

* * *

"Nice little place isn't it?" John asked. He and Addie were seated at a small table near the back of the Chinese restaurant.

"Very nice. Great company too," Addie answered.

"Yeah, the company's not bad, I guess," John teased.

Addie made a face at him and laughed.

"Seriously though, thanks for this John. I needed to get out for a bit."

"Hey, no problem. I'm just glad to have you back and safe. You gave us quite a scare, you know" he said giving her a pointed look.

"I messed up a bit, didn't I?" Addie asked.

"A bit? You did a full on runner and made yourself completely untraceable! I've never seen Sherlock so anxious. It was completely foolish and not to mention selfish!" John said, getting frustrated.

Addie lowered her eyes to her lap and muttered, "I'm sorry, John."

"You had me worried sick! You can't just take off and disappear whenever you feel like it!"

"I feel terrible about that. I never meant to cause so much panic," Addie said.

"But," John said. "I understand why you did it. I can't be too upset about it. I would have done the same thing."

Addie looked at him curiously.

"Addie, I, more than anyone, understand what it means to be scared. Especially scared of the harsh realities of life. Nightmares are scary, sure, but real life? That's the most terrifying. Especially when you find out you're not dreaming," John said.

Addie nodded, "At least when I'm dreaming, I can wake up. There's a promise that it will end and I'll get out of it," she raised her head to look him in the eyes. "I've spend the last 5 years hoping and praying to wake up, only to realize I wasn't going to. I wished so many times, still do, that I can just go to sleep and stay that way. I'll take the dreams over the truth any day."

John felt his heart clench at her words. He himself had been in that situation countless times when he returned from war. Better to sleep forever than live in pain. But he'd gotten past it. He'd pushed on. And he had Sherlock to thank for that. John recognized that he could be that person for Addie.

"Addie, believe me, I know exactly how you feel. But you know what?" John said making sure she was looking at him. "I got through it. I overcame it."

"But, you're stronger than me," Addie said quietly.

John reached across that table for her hands. "Don't ever say that. You lasted for 5 years, Addie. 5 years! That's a hell of a lot longer than I would have. I may not know the details of what happened when you were gone. Hell, I don't even know you that well at all. But what I do know and what I've seen, is a strong young woman, braver than me, and handling herself with poise and dignity, never letting her fear get the best of her."

Addie locked eyes with John and her vision went blurry with tears. She squeezed his hand back and gave a small smile.

"Don't you dare give up, kiddo. You're better than that," John said. He paused to let the words sink in for her. "Not to mention, it might kill Mycroft and Sherlock. Those stubborn gits claim to lack sentiment, but they're not fooling anyone."

Addie chuckled. "Well, we can't have that happening. The world needs Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes. The bloody idiots."

"Not to mention they'd come back to haunt my sorry ass. I'd never survive that!" John said, laughing.

Addie laughed and gave a mock shiver. "Now _that's_ a terrifying thought."

"Indeed."

"I'm…I'm glad we got to talk, John. Maybe I do need people after all. And…I'm glad you're one of those people," Addie told him.

"Me too, Addie. Me too," John said giving her a wink.

Addie smiled and went back to browsing the menu for something to eat.


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry this has taken a while. Up until this point, I had it all written ahead of time and all I needed to do was upload it here. Now I have to write more and that means it might not be as fast as it usually is. But I do have more written and I plan to write even more to get ahead again. Anyways, thanks as always for the follows/favs/reviews! Hope you enjoy! Oh and thanks to Sophie for your kind reviews! I can't reply to you personally because you're a guest, but know that I do appreciate your comments :)**

* * *

Chapter 18

Addie stood in front of the mirror in her room nervously smoothing down her dress and fixing her hair for the millionth time. To say she was nervous was an understatement. Admittedly, this was the first time anything like this had happened to her and she felt completely out of her depth. It wasn't something she expected to experience, but she wasn't unhappy that she was. On the contrary, she was so excited she thought she might burst. The combination of nervousness and excitement was making her feel nauseous and she knew she couldn't put it off anymore. She had to do it now or she'd never get out the door.

You see, Addie Holmes, at 24, was going on her first date. She had nearly fainted in shock when she was asked out and after accepting, had a slight freak-out about what the hell a date was all about and how to go about getting ready for one. She decided to consult Molly since she had experience in this type of thing. Molly may not have been successful in her dating endeavors but she had plenty of dating expertise under her belt. Molly had been exceptionally helpful; giving her advice on what to talk about and how to conduct herself. She even helped her pick out her dress and find some styling tips for her hair. Most importantly though, Molly helped Addie keep it all a secret from her brothers and John. She knew they would protest and forbid her from going, even though they really had no authority over her anymore. Although, John would most likely not be opposed to it, but considering he and Sherlock were so close and John couldn't keep a secret, she had to exclude him from the plan too.

Her plan was to tell Sherlock right before she was going out, not giving him enough time to get upset. She looked at her reflection and sighed. If she waited until she was completely satisfied with her appearance, she'd never go on a date again. She took a deep breath and turned from the mirror. It was time to tell Sherlock.

She walked into the living room and, as nonchalantly as possible, started gathering her coat and purse. Sherlock looked up at her sudden entrance and frowned when he took in her appearance.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just out for a bit," she replied casually.

John looked up from his computer. "You look nice," he commented. "Where you headed?"

"There's a new Italian restaurant I've been dying to try. Thought I'd go check it out."

"By yourself? All dressed up?" Sherlock asked, suspicious.

"No. Not exactly by myself. There will be someone with me."

"And who might that be?"

Addie bit her lip. She was nervous. She was 24 years old and nervous to tell her big brother she had a date. He wasn't her father for goodness sake and she wasn't 15 years old. She shouldn't care about upsetting him and about him disapproving; but she did.

"If you must know," she started.

"Oh, I really must," Sherlock interrupted her.

"If you must know, Tom asked me on a date and I accepted. He should be here soon and we'll be off to dinner." Addie said matter-of-factly.

"That sounds lovely Addie, have fun," John said and smiled.

Addie returned his smile then focused her attention on Sherlock. He looked thoughtful. Not angry, not upset, just thoughtful.

"And what do you intend to do on this _date_?" he asked as if the very word repulsed him.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I don't know. I thought he'd start with just some flirting then move on to snogging, and possibly getting a bit friendlier by the end of the night. But one can't be too hopeful for the first date."

Sherlock pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "I don't appreciate your sarcasm. Being cheeky isn't going to lighten the mood."

"I didn't intend for it to. I just wanted to show you what a ridiculous question that was. What do you think we're going to do, Sherlock? We're going to have dinner and get to know each other. It's not like I'm going to run off and get married or have his babies or anything. Though I hardly see how it is any concern of yours."

"I could say no," he said.

"And I could say, piss off."

"Is he going to come up and get you?" Sherlock asked.

Addie scoffed. "No. I'm not an idiot. I'm meeting him outside."

"Oh, what a gentleman," Sherlock snarked.

She rolled her eyes and smirked. Sherlock was concerned and it was plainly obvious to her, no matter how much he used sarcasm to cover it up.

"Dear brother," she said, coming to stand in front of him. "I'll be sure to be on my best behavior and keep the snogging to a minimum," she teased.

Sherlock grumbled under his breath and glared at her.

Addie laughed. "I'm kidding, Sherlock."

"I know!" he said, looking offended.

Her phone went off and she scrambled to check it. "Well, that's him. Guess I'll be going then." Suddenly her anxiety from before came back and she started nervously tugging at her dress and twirling her hair.

John sensed her fear and attempted to make her feel better. "Relax, Addie. You look beautiful and I'm sure Tom will think so too. Have a good time, love." He crossed the room and gave her a peck on the cheek before going into the kitchen to make some tea. Addie glanced at Sherlock. When it appeared as if he wasn't going to say anything, she turned to leave.

"Addie…" he said. She turned back around. "You look…nice." He said awkwardly.

Addie knew, in Sherlock speak, that he meant, 'be careful,' 'good luck,' and 'have a good time,' all in one. She gave him a wide smile then stood on her tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. She grabbed her coat and her bag and headed for the stairs.

"Be back later," she called as she closed the door to the flat.

* * *

Tom was there to greet her with a smile and a very nice shirt and tie. Addie was momentarily stricken at how well he cleaned up. She suddenly felt inadequate and unattractive next to him. How had he been interested in her enough to ask her out?

Tom offered her his arm. "You look beautiful," he said kissing her cheek.

Addie blushed and ducked her head. "You look dashing as well," she said, teasing.

"Well, thank you m'lady!"

"Most welcome good sir," Addie chuckled.

"So, how did Mr. Prat take it?" Tom asked.

Addie gave him a disapproving look.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "How did _Sherlock_ take it?"

"Well, I barely gave him time to react. I waited until the very last minute. He didn't react quite as badly as I expected though, lucky for you," she smiled.

"Well that's good. And thank you for not making me go up there. You might have saved my life."

"I guess that means you owe me," Addie said.

"How will I ever repay you?" Tom joked.

"You can start by taking me to eat. I'm starving."

Tom smiled and hailed a cab to take them to the restaurant.

They spent the night laughing and talking, enjoying each other's company. Addie was starting to fall for Tom and that scared her slightly. She wasn't one to trust people and get close to people. Past experiences had ruined that for her. She blamed the hormones and excitement for impairing her judgment.

Addie nearly had a heart attack when she looked at her phone and saw the time. Half past eleven. Neither had noticed that the restaurant had closed its doors and was cleaning tables.

"Oh, shit! We've been out for nearly 5 hours! We need to go, before Sherlock calls out a search party," Addie said scrambling to grab her stuff.

Tom laid the bills on the table and stood up as well. "Addie, you're an adult. Why do you let your brothers control your life so much?" Tom asked, slightly annoyed.

"You don't understand, Tom. They will not hesitate to hunt you down if they suspect anything. Anything at all. We really should be going back."

Tom looked put-off again but nodded.

"I'm just going to run to the loo really fast," Addie said. "Be right back!"

After seeing her disappear into the loo, Tom whipped out his phone and dialed. "Hey, Davis, it's me. Yeah, everything is going well. She doesn't suspect anything. She's so head over heels she's practically floating. Tell Warden it's not over yet."

Addie was now returning from the loo and he quickly ended the call.

"Who was that?" Addie asked.

"Just my housemate. Wanting to know if I had a spare key. He's heading to bed."

"Well, we shouldn't keep him waiting. Ready?" she asked.

"Yes, after you m'lady," Tom said and held out his hand towards the door.

"Thank you sir," she joked as she they left the restaurant.

The cab pulled up to 221B and Tom held the door open for Addie. She climbed out and they found themselves awkwardly standing in front of the door to the flat. Addie glanced up and saw the curtains move a bit. She knew they were being watched.

"Just to let you know, Sherlock's watching. Don't try anything funny," she teased.

Tom smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Then I guess I shall bid you goodnight and say thank you for a lovely time."

"You are most welcome. And thank you for taking me. You were lovely. I mean…it! It was lovely," Addie said blushing beet red and looking at the ground.

Tom chuckled and turned her face up to his. "You were lovely as well, Addie. I hope this will not be the last time we spend a night out. If _Sherlock_ allows us, that is," he sneered at Sherlock's name.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about him," Addie smirked. "He'll get over it."

"So, is that a yes?"

"I'll let you know," she said.

Tom smiled and gave her a light peck on the cheek. "Goodnight, Addie. Hope to see you again soon."

"Likewise, Tom."

Tom watched her unlock the door and go inside, smiling to himself at his cleverness and charm. She was incredibly easy to influence and he was pleased that his plan was working.

Addie walked up the stairs to the flat dreamily, head stuck in the clouds. As she opened the door, Sherlock was there to greet her with a stern face and a glare.

"Holy…you scared the crap out of me, Sherlock! Don't do that!"

"Did you and _Tom_ have a good time?" he sneered, much in the same way Tom did when speaking of Sherlock.

Addie rolled her eyes. "Yes, we did. Tom's lovely and we plan to go out again soon."

"Any longer and I would have called Mycroft to arrange a search party," Sherlock said.

"Well, it's a good thing we didn't take longer, isn't it?" Addie said cheekily.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "I don't like him, Addie."

"And I don't care."

Sherlock glared at her as if studying her.

"And besides, it's the big brother's prerogative not to like his little sister's dates."

"I don't think you should keep seeing him."

Addie laughed and hung her coat up next to her purse on the hook. "Good to know you're concerned, big brother."

Sherlock wrinkled his nose, "I'm not-"

"Goodnight, Sherlock," she called as she walked to her room.

Sherlock had a bad feeling about Tom Reynolds. He learned never to ignore his bad feelings because they usually turned out to be correct in the end. He would be keeping a close eye on the young agent, and he knew Mycroft would as well. And so help the poor boy if he did anything to hurt their little sister.


	19. Chapter 19

**Well, here's another chapter! Thanks for the follows/reviews/favorites! I haven't finished the next chapter yet, so it may be a little bit before I update. This week at work is going to be madness and my big sister is having her baby shower this weekend, so we'll see if it works out. Anyways, without further ado, here's Chapter 19!**

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Chapter 19

The next few days were incredibly dull and slow. There were little to no cases. Well, there were cases, but none that Sherlock felt worthy enough of his time. So now they were stuck inside with nothing to do except increasingly get on each other's nerves. John had snapped at Sherlock for using the coffee pot as an incubator for some weird experiment he was doing. Sherlock had pouted and refused to clean out the pot or buy a new one so John could have a cup of coffee. "Speedy's is right next door, John!"

John had even snapped at Addie for leaving her books and journals lying around. John was sick of tripping over them and trying to navigate his way through the mess all the time. Addie ignored him and rolled her eyes. She needed some way to occupy her time and it was better than shooting holes in the wall like Sherlock. "I'll clean it up later, John. I'm not nearly as bad as Sherlock."

John was reminded of how difficult it was to live with two Holmeses. Especially when they were bored. Sherlock and Addie were also at each other's throats. Not that that was any different than usual. But it was getting to John more than it ever had. They were driving him mad! He needed to get out. Desperately.

"Sherlock!" Addie yelled from her room. "Where the hell is my green scarf?"

"Oh, was that yours?" Sherlock asked with fake innocence.

"That's the one Tom bought for me!" she yelled walking to the living room.

"Oops. Sorry," Sherlock said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"Where is it?"

"I'm afraid I seem to have misplaced it. In one of my experiments. Terrible accident."

Addie let out a frustrated scream. "God, you're so irritating! You only think of yourself!"

"It's for science, Addie. It's for the greater good. The wool in the scarf happened to work well with the chemicals I was using. You should be glad you contributed to my research."

"You think you're so slick. You're just a prat! No wonder no one wants to work with you! You're impossible!"

"Oh, and you're the perfect picture of charisma? You might have a way with people and can convince them you're so smart and charming, but you're just as arrogant and difficult as I am. At least I don't pretend."

"At least I have the courtesy to ask before taking things that don't belong to me! What if I needed that scarf or wanted to use it?" Addie asked.

"I'm sure your precious Tom will buy you a new one," Sherlock snarked.

"That's not the point, Sherlock!" Addie yelled.

"Oh god, it's the Barbie incident all over again. Are you going to cry for hours now and refuse to speak to me? Just be glad I didn't use the fur from your favorite teddy. Harvey, is it?"

Addie went silent. "I…I don't have Harvey anymore," she said hesitantly.

"So, that bear-shaped mass of stuffing I saw by your bed the other day was a figment of my imagination?" Sherlock sneered.

"Well, what the hell are you doing in my room?"

"Hmm…defensive and avoiding the question. Still have the bear and obviously embarrassed about it, seeing as you felt the need to hide it," Sherlock said.

"You went _snooping_ through my room?"

"Still finding comfort in a childhood toy, then. Interesting. Tell me little sister, do you still suck your thumb? Or wet the bed like you used to when you were a kid?"

Addie gaped at him. "Sherlock!"

"Do we need to get you a night-light? Keep the scary monsters away?"

"Shut up!"

"Do you need me to tuck you in tonight? Read you a bedtime story?"

"Stop it!" Addie growled and advanced towards him.

John had had enough. This was juvenile and petty and he needed to end it.

"Just stop it, you two! That's enough! Don't make me put you in the corner," he threatened, half teasing, half serious because they were behaving like children. John felt like a parent far too much with these two.

"You wouldn't dare," Sherlock said.

"Watch me."

Suddenly, John's phone went off.

_Tell them to sit on opposite sides of the room and work out their own problems. Turn the telly on or something. Helps them start conversations._

_-MH_

John looked confused then turned to the bookcase where he knew the camera was hidden. He texted back.

_Why don't you just come here and tell them that yourself? I'm not your babysitter."_

_-JW_

_And my presence there would help matters, how? You're fine. They listen to you. They'll get over it soon._

_-MH_

_I get the feeling you've had plenty of experience with this._

_-JW_

Mycroft never texted back but John could picture the smirk on his face. He looked up and saw Sherlock and Addie glaring at each other from across the room. At least that step was done for him. Now to turn on the telly.

"Right, well I'm going out for a bit. To regain my sanity. You two can sit here and work out your own problems. I hope it will be resolved by the time I get back," John said, walking over to the TV and flipping it on.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Mycroft's been schooling you in the art of how to handle our fights." He stated.

"Yes, the TV was always his favorite move. Said it started conversations between us," Addie said.

"It may have worked when we were kids, but it's not going to work now. So Mycroft can shove it. I'm not giving him the satisfaction of knowing he was right," Sherlock said.

"Alright then," John began. "Sit here in silence the whole time. Or tear each other apart. I really don't care. I just need to get out. Just don't destroy anything valuable." He waved them off.

The stony silence that settled after John left the room soon fueled into a mutual agreement to not let Mycroft win this round.

* * *

They lasted all of 20 minutes before Sherlock started answering all of the questions to the game show that was on telly before the question was done being asked. To prove his superior knowledge, he started directing the questions to Addie and pausing for her to answer. Of course she didn't and instead took to glaring at him and rolling her eyes.

"What do you think the answer is, Addie?" Sherlock asked for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Shut up, Sherlock. That's annoying," Addie whined at him.

"It's ok if you don't know the answer," Sherlock said condescendingly.

That got to Addie, as Sherlock knew it would.

"I'm not refusing to answer because I don't know what it is. I'm refusing to answer because I don't want to give in to your stupid game."

The game show host's voice drifted over the tense silence. "The fifth and largest planet in the solar system. Also known as the "gas giant.""

Sherlock was silent.

Addie smirked. "No answer this time, Mr. Know-it-all?"

Sherlock was purposely ignoring her and glaring at the tv screen.

"Oh for god's sake, the answer is Jupiter! Do you really not know that?"

"Shut up."

"It's amazing, really. A brain like yours and you can't remember basic textbook knowledge from primary school."

Sherlock looked ready to kill. "Ok then, if you're so smart, answer the next one."

"Fine," Addie said haughtily.

"Who is the youngest Prime Minister to be elected in 198 years?"

Crap. Addie didn't know this one. How could she not know this one? It's common knowledge!

"Anything? Anything at all?" Sherlock drawled.

Addie's face flushed and she avoided his intense stare.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, looking bored. "The answer is David Cameron. Also known as the current Prime Minister. Do you not pay attention to simple politics?"

"That's not fair! He was elected when I was in-" Addie trailed off. "When I wasn't around!"

Sherlock merely raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't exactly have time to keep up-to-date on current events, Sherlock. I demand a redo!"

Sherlock heaved a dramatic sigh, "Fine."

Addie gave a smug smile. "Good."

"I bet you a week of laundry duty I can answer more questions than you," Sherlock said with a mischievous glint in his eye. He knew it was childish, but he never passed up an opportunity to show off.

Addie looked thoughtful. "I see your week of laundry and raise you three cases."

Sherlock nearly buzzed with excitement. "Oh, little sister, it is so on."

John came home an hour later to find Addie and Sherlock sharing the couch, shouting out answers to the telly as if their lives depended on it.

"The quadratic equation!" Addie yelled, then whooped in victory when the host confirmed her answer. "12 to 10, big brother. You're slacking," she said as she kicked him in the side from her slouched position on the couch.

John was pretty sure neither sibling noticed him in the room as they continued their banter.

"Bragging is not becoming, Addie," Sherlock sneered playfully as he whacked her foot out of the way.

"Ow!" Addie yelled dramatically. "I'm telling Mycroft!" she said looking angry but failing as a smile crossed her face.

"I'm so scared," Sherlock mocked, also with a smile on his face.

Addie stuck her tongue out at him and picked up the bag of biscuits from the floor, popping one in her mouth.

"Give me some," Sherlock demanded as he tried to snatch it out of her hand.

Addie squirmed away. "Say please," she teased.

"No. I'm older and you have to do what I say."

"Yeah, right."

Sherlock lunged for the bag again and missed, catching Addie in the side. Addie let out a squeal and a laugh.

"Sherlock! Stop it," she giggled.

Sherlock smirked, "Oh, I'm sorry, does that bother you?"

"You're not getting the biscuits. Let me go!"

"No. I want them," he said as he reached for them again. Addie avoided his hand and snatched them away behind her head. She was now practically hanging off the couch as Sherlock relentlessly grabbed for the bag.

"Stop! I'm going to faaa-" Addie squeaked as she tumbled to the floor.

Sherlock grabbed the now abandoned biscuits and hugged them to his chest. Addie, admitting defeat was laughing breathlessly in front of the couch with her hands still outstretched where the bag had been.

"Ok…I give…I give!" she said between breaths.

"Good. I bought them for me anyways," Sherlock reveled in his victory.

"No, you didn't," John finally spoke up from his position leaning against the door frame. "I did."

The two siblings' heads snapped to the door and they immediately straightened up.

"How long have you been standing there?" Addie asked warily.

John chuckled. "Long enough. Good to see you two have reconciled. Not quite as adults do, but reconciled none-the-less," he walked towards the kitchen. "Anyone up for some Chinese? Stopped at the take-away joint down the street."

Sherlock set down the bag of biscuits and made to follow him Addie muttered, "I still won," as she passed by Sherlock and grabbed the biscuits. There was more scuffling and a "give that back!" then Sherlock bounded into the room with the bag over his head. John smiled to himself and started serving up the chicken and rice.

Somewhere in the heart of London, in a large office and comfortable desk chair, Mycroft Holmes watched the security footage of one 221B Baker Street. He took one last sip of his tea, shook his head and smiled before turning off his computer and calling his car to take him home.


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey guys, sorry it's been a while. Life has been super busy. Hoping it dies down soon! I've finally gotten ahead in my writing so I'm posting a new chapter! Yay! Hope you enjoy and thanks for the reviews/favs/follows! Here's Chapter 20!**

* * *

Chapter 20

Since Addie had won the game show challenge, the agreement was that Sherlock would let her have three of his cases and he would step in if she requested and needed him. He was very grumpy about this and proceeded to express this grumpiness under his breath during each case. He sneered at her comments and rolled his eyes at her deductions. He was being an all-around brat.

Addie ignored him of course, being used to his tantrums. But today she had a pounding headache and a queasy stomach. If he didn't know any better, she'd swear she had a hangover. But since no alcohol was consumed the night before, she knew that wasn't the case. Her reprimands to Sherlock were half-hearted and she let him get away with more than he should have, simply because she was exhausted and felt like crap.

She was currently bent down over a victim, rattling off about the shape and size of the bruises and the angle at which the abuser would have had to be to inflict such injuries. Lestrade was looking intently and hanging on her every word, completely oblivious to the fact that she had broken out in a sweat and her eyes were becoming glassy. John didn't seem to notice either as he fervently took notes and nodded his head at her cleverness.

Sherlock however, knew that something was off the moment she woke up. To anyone else it wouldn't have been obvious, but to him it was extremely clear. For one thing, she only added one sugar to her tea, meaning she needed the extra stimulants for something. Another was that she put significantly less jam on her toast, possibly an indication that she didn't have a big appetite. Also, she'd taken more time reading the homicide section of the paper because she was squinting and rubbing her eyes. Yes, Sherlock knew, something was definitely off.

Having successfully deduced the victim's injuries as well as their life story, Addie stood back up from her crouch. She immediately got a dizzy spell and swayed a bit on her feet. Lestrade reached out to steady her.

"Alright, kiddo?" he asked.

Addie straightened up. "Yes, fine. Stood up a bit too fast, that's all." Sherlock could tell a lie from a mile away. Addie wasn't fine and the dizziness wasn't a result of standing up too fast.

Things just got worse as the day progressed. Addie kept wiping her brow and pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were glassy and she was making strangled coughing sounds so as not to alert anyone that she was feeling terrible. She should have known better. She must have really been off her game to not notice Sherlock studying her closely and making his own deductions. If she were her normal observant self, she would have not been so surprised to find that she and Sherlock were now alone in the corridor with John and Lestrade discussing their notes by the front door.

"When were you planning on telling someone you're sick?"

"Huh?"

"Very articulate response. Just serves to prove my point. You're miserable, but you insist on being stubborn and pushing yourself through," Sherlock said with a critical eye.

Addie gave a bitter laugh. "Well isn't that the pot calling the kettle black! You're the perfect example of this, Sherlock. I learned from the best, after all."

Sherlock didn't seem amused and instead turned away to walk over to John and Lestrade. She saw Sherlock lean in to talk to them and immediately John's eyes were on her, diagnosing her every symptom from afar.

Addie knew she was caught and she was in for it now. She moved to take a step towards them and attempt to say that she was perfectly fine and didn't need to be fussed over, but her legs turned to jelly and she pitched forward. Strong arms caught her before she would hit the ground and she looked up into John's concerned eyes.

"High fever, dizziness, headache. Might be the flu," John said. "Anything else, Addie?"

Addie gulped and was breathing heavily. "Sick. Feel sick."

"Well, we guessed that much," Lestrade said.

"No…" Addie panted. "Feel….siii-"

John had just enough time to move out of the way before Addie vomited all over the floor. She coughed and wiped her mouth, but stayed on the ground. Her head was killing her and she doubted her ability to get up without passing out.

"I think that answers your question, John," Sherlock said cheekily.

"Alright, you guys go on home. We have what we need. And for god's sake, get that kid in bed," Lestrade said as he walked back to his team muttering about "stubborn Holmes's."

John leaned down to help Addie to her feet. "Most definitely the flu. Liquids, rest, and paracetamol. No cases for you for a while."

Addie let out a small whine and John couldn't tell if it was her feeling worse or a reaction to his "no cases" rule. Maybe both.

She was now on her feet and clutching her head. She was able to walk but Sherlock and John kept their hands on her to keep her steady just in case. Lestrade had hailed them a cab and it was waiting for them when they made it to the street. Addie slipped in first, nearly toppling over in the process. Sherlock's arms around her waist kept her upright and she was, as gently as possible, maneuvered into the cab. Sherlock followed, then John, closing the door and telling the driver where to go.

Addie's head lolled against Sherlock's shoulder and she closed her eyes. "S-S-Sherlock…" Addie struggled to say through her heavy breathing.

"Sherlock…the case…y'gotta solve it…tell 'Strade…" she trailed off, coughing.

"I know, Addie," Sherlock replied.

"Please, Lockie, solve it. 'M not as good as you," Addie said before her head fell forward and she fell asleep.

"It's fine Addie. You did good, little sister. Don't worry," Sherlock said as he adjusted his hold on her.


End file.
